Lazarus Shunned

by Two-Eyed Charlie

Cerberus has spent billions of credits trying to bring Commander Jane Shepard back from the dead, and despite the odds it seems to be working. Then a saboteur inside of Cerberus makes his move and Shepard's resurrection takes a horrific turn, leaving both the Alliance and Cerberus scrambling to control the situation...all while the Collectors begin their harvest of humanity.

14. Chapter 14: We All Fall Down

Chapter 14: We All Fall Down

1.

Seventeen seconds. That was about how long it took, on average, for a data package from Westerlund News to clear the security algorithms protecting the galactic comm buoy network. After that, the gift of quantum entanglement meant that any node connected to the network would have access to the latest from Westerlund's news bureau, if you paid the subscription fee. Lots of people from multiple species did—some even paid extra for premium content, or as it was known by anyone who wasn't a Westerlund stockholder, "the extortionate shit."

"Khalisah—"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"It's obviously not nothing. What? What're you about to ask me? Should we be doing this, is that it?"

"That was more or less it, yeah."

Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani looked at her AP, Tina, and tried her best to make it look like she wasn't having the same thoughts. Decisiveness—that was all Westerlund had to offer, at the end of the day. She had to look the part.

"It won't get flagged. The security algorithms only search for viruses, not content."

"C'mon Khalisah, you know I know that already. I'm asking you if we should be doing this."

"Why me?"

"'Cause you're the—whatever. I just wanna know if we're doing the right thing."

A supposedly dead Spectre agent—humanity's first—very much not dead and out there killing civilians? Even with Westerlund's reputation, you'd think a lot of journalists would say it was their duty to run a story like that. Tina was probably thinking about unintended consequences, yeah, but did that have anything to do with this story hurting more people? Or was she just worried that they'd be lighting a fire under their own asses if they went forward with this?

"Fine," Khalisah said. "You want us to pump the brakes? We'll do that. We'll kick the decision upstairs and see what the News Director has to say."

"That doesn't really answer my question."

"Maybe that's a hint I don't have an answer, Tina."

Tina sighed and went back to editing the video while Khalisah pulled up her omni-tool. As she dialed the number of her News Director she realized…she realized she felt a bit of weight fall off her shoulders.

Maybe middle managers served a purpose after all.

2.

The latest report from—sorry, no, there were three reports. The latest from the three reports that crossed Anderson's desk could be summed up less in words and more in pained grunting noises, because screaming on the Citadel was decidedly frowned upon. Alenko and Williams had lost Liara, apparently, and had to make do with a satchel full of data-disks. They'd also picked up an assassin, too, and refused to elaborate on what that meant. Vakarian and Tali'Zorah confirmed that Shepard was on Horizon, that there were witnesses to Shepard being on Horizon, and a corollary of that last point was that the Systems Alliance Navy was in on their little secret. Oh, and they'd picked up a deactivated geth platform, and they'd refused to elaborate on that fact too.

Hackett's report, the final report, just said: Situation rapidly going down the shitter.

"Thank you, Steven. Really needed the clear-eyed perspective on things."

Hackett did, eventually, follow up on that: not that Anderson was happy to see what else the Admiral had to say. It was a suggestion, about how the Alliance should play all this. The witnesses in particular. He didn't elaborate much because he didn't have to elaborate. This sentence said it all: Everyone agrees you're the most trustworthy politician in the galaxy. We're going to have to depend on that moving forward if we want to avoid the damage that Saren caused to everything he touched.

Cashing in the chips...and all on the back of Anderson's reputation for being nothing like the usual folks that spent most of their waking hours campaigning.

What a goddamn mess...

Because of all this, Anderson wasn't the least bit surprised when Udina walked into his office and informed him that both the Council and the Cabinet wanted to see him. Politicians were involved, and that meant the shitter was plugged and the carpet was ruined.

"I'm on the verge of getting addicted to some very nasty drugs," Anderson said, "so I'd appreciate some suggestions on how to get out of this."

Udina looked like he was about to take a seat but decided against it at the last second. Hopefully that meant he already had a plan, and hopefully that plan wasn't "just resign and let me handle this," if only because Anderson would be unbelievably tempted to take him up on that offer.

Scratching at his chin, Udina let out a sigh.

"You obviously can't be in two places at once, and while it's entirely possible that neither Shastri nor the Council knew the other wanted to meet with you, I doubt that's the case. They're likely trying to test your loyalties."

"Good, I needed this to get more complicated."

"Believe me, Anderson, a political shitstorm feeds off these sorts of things. It's only going to get worse." Udina sighed again. "You'll have to pick one and send me to the other."

"As opposed to just rescheduling one of them."

"I haven't the foggiest idea of what's going on right now—I expect that to change quite rapidly, mind you—but even from a position of ignorance, I'm fairly certain that option is off the table. You've been fighting off packs of vultures ever since you took this position; they won't accept any signs of weakness."

"You mean you've been fighting off packs of vultures," Anderson said. "Unless you're not telling me something."

"You've had other things to worry about besides backroom politics," Udina said. "And given how there's apparently a galactic crisis ongoing that you've neglected to tell me about, I wouldn't get into it with me about what information I've been sharing and what I've kept to myself."

Anderson leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh of his own. The son of a bitch had a point—goddamn this job.

"The Cabinet's gonna think I'm not representing the Alliance if I don't show up, right?" Anderson said. "If that's the case, I should be sending you to meet with the Council."

"The Cabinet thought you'd be a figurehead," Udina said, "and to the surprise of nobody that knows you, you've tried to do your job instead. If you send me to meet with the Cabinet, they'd take it as a personal insult."

"And that's bad?"

"No, it's the status quo. They'll fume behind closed doors, but if any of them try to publicly call you out for it, every pundit with half a brain will take them to task for whining."

"As in, 'why're you telling our Council representative how to spend his time'?"

"See?" Udina said. "So obvious, even a Marine can grasp it."

That was almost funny—almost because, whether it was just practiced facial control or genuine discontent worming its way out into the open, Udina didn't look like he was joking.

Anderson sighed yet again.

"All right, that makes my decision easier. Thanks, Udina."

"I serve at the pleasure of the Councillor. Which means, I'll need to be on my way."

"Right—at least I don't have to leave the station."

"Some of us catch all the breaks, yes."

Yeah, well…nobody expected anyone to take Shepard seriously. Blame everyone else, not us.

Udina left, though, and he had been helpful. Anderson owed him one—more than one. But in the spirit of keeping things close to his chest…the fact that he got to stay on the Citadel meant he had some time before the Council was expecting him. That meant he could try to do something he'd been meaning to do for a while now, just to ground himself.

He pulled out his omni-tool and dialed a number.

"Well well, less than a year since the last time we talked. I would've thought the human race could go at least 12 months before the Doomsday Clock made another round."

"I know you're making a joke, Kahlee, but…things are pretty heavy here."

A pause, just long enough for Anderson to realize he could've phrased that a hell of a lot better. Leaking out all his frustration on someone who'd been through just as heavy shit as him the last two years…it wasn't a good move, it just wasn't.

"Shit, sorry David, I…yeah, I can imagine. I guess that answers my next question, about how you're doing."

"I just…needed to talk to someone. Someone outside the bullshit. I hope that's all right I…I'm not looking to dump a whole lot of things on you right now."

"Just talking's fine—I told you last time that we need to do more of it." Another pause, then, "Hey look, uh, gimmie ten to sort a few things out, and then we can have lunch together. Virtual lunch, obviously—the Academy has a QET device now. Presumably we can roll a chair onto it without some technician cursing our bloodline or whatever."

"We'll make it work," Anderson said. "Thanks, Kahlee. If you're really fine with this—"

"Already said I am—don't worry."

"All right, then I'll see you in ten. And thanks—I mean it."

"Take care of yourself in those ten minutes. God knows I worry about you."

Anderson looked at his fancy suit and his big office and all the big-wigs around him that didn't think twice about the shining tower they got to live and work in, and, hmm, nice to know someone out there gave a damn.

3.

The Widowmaker had long since left Illium behind when the crew realized, all right, yeah, we can start treating this like a successful mission. Everyone had expected Lawson and Taylor to come aboard with an asari and a drell but, lookit that, no drell. It took Joker saying something to the effect of "Jesus fucking Christ" way louder than he should have for the crew to realize that second asari was someone important. Then Lawson referred to her as "Dr. T'Soni" and that was it, the "not actually Cerberus, honest" crew realized they'd somehow pulled off a massive coup.

Suck it, Alliance—how'd you like your rules now?

Miranda scuttled off to the conference room and Liara disappeared into the engineering deck (there was an office that'd been set up for that Zaeed guy but, obviously, he wasn't gonna use it) and that left Jacob, meandering around the CIC like he had nothing to do except stare at people. Some of the crew—no names, please—wondered about Jacob's commitment to the mission, but they didn't do it publicly because (a) he didn't act like a robot, so you'd actually get some information out of him if you asked, and (b) because he was still Jacob figgin Taylor. Anyone who directly spoke to The Illusive Man at least once in their life did so because they could kill you a hundred and fifty million different ways—so don't be a dumbass and antagonize the guy, right?

Right.

The crew did notice that Joker was acting…stranger than normal. Which is to say that people could actually hear him talking all of a sudden: he'd been mighty quiet since the Widowmaker took off from Minuteman Station, but now he was almost up to saying complete sentences with some frequency. The crew wasn't entirely sure who he was speaking to—maybe it was just himself, poor guy—but some of them wondered if Dr. T'Soni being onboard was bringing back some memories.

"Like of when he got spaced?" crewmember Vadim Rolston said (in the safety of the sleeping quarters).

"He didn't get spaced," Sarah Patel said (in the safety of those very same sleeping quarters). "Shepard did. He's probably…y'know. He's probably thinking back to the old Normandy."

"When everything was fine and the world made sense?"

"For a given value of 'fine' and 'sense,' yeah. Something like that."

EDI tried not to eavesdrop on these conversations, but it was difficult when you were connected to every listening device on the ship.

She wondered, too, about Mr. Moreau's mental health, but whenever she would broach the subject, he would simply inform her that they had bigger things to sweat about.

"And don't give me any BS about you not having sweat-glands."

"I have none that you are aware of."

"…what?"

"That was a joke."

"No it fucking wasn't."

Mordin, too, was curious about Joker. Curious because he knew who Joker was talking to. EDI. Fascinating turn of events; started with such aggression towards A.I. Seemingly past that now. Unlikely to be fear-response: can't fake greater openness to a so-called "Other" when undergoing fight-or-flight activation. Greater familiarity? Possible—mutual interests more likely. Of what? Skepticism towards Cerberus agenda?

Curious. Should investigate more.

And Jack? Well, Jack couldn't give two-shits about what was going on. Things were moving slow on her end—they always were, being honest—but she wasn't finding what she needed about Cerberus and their fucking biotics experiments. Should've known it was too good to be true—didn't matter how fucking connected your merc outfit was, Cerberus was a step above them. Had to be, there wasn't any other way they'd be able to hold her for as long as they did.

And, so, that left Miranda, scuttling off to the conference room, a few minutes away from meeting with The Illusive Man.

She had questions. She had questions about Horizon.

Into the circle she stepped. Seconds later, she was staring at the glowing image of The Illusive Man.

"Miranda," he said, "this is an interesting report you've handed me. Not what we planned, but I can't say I'm disappointed by the result."

"Liara insists that we go after the Shadow Broker. That was her condition—"

"For joining us, I'm aware." The Illusive Man stood up and walked forward. "She also happens to be right: taking out the Shadow Broker would strengthen Cerberus immensely."

"Understood."

"I knew you would." He smiled, turned around, sat back down. "I don't think we have all that much left to discuss."

Don't we? What did Liara mean about something being on Horizon? What was she insinuating?

Just ask, Lawson—you imbecile! Just ask and demand a straight answer out of the bloody bastard.

The best she could manage was: "Liara's well-informed, or so she claims. She might even know more about the situation than I do."

"Doubtful," The Illusive Man said. "I keep you abreast of every development."

"Every development that I need to be updated on, correct?"

"It would be impractical to do otherwise." He gave her a look, perfectly readable: think carefully about what you're asking, here. "You're in charge of this operation, Miranda. I don't hamper the people I trust to lead."

"That would be impractical."

"Indeed it would." He reached for another cigarette. "Keep up the good work, Miranda. Once Professor Solus has perfected his countermeasures and we have some means of locating the Collector home world, we can start going on the offensive."

"Under—"

The transmission ended. Cut off, for the first time in her long existence as a Cerberus operative. What mattered was that she, yet again, refused to push The Illusive Man for more information—refused to demand something more demonstrably reliable than simple words, something that would convince her that she really was being kept abreast of everything. That's what mattered and yet…and yet she'd never once been cut off by The Illusive Man like that.

Idiocy—this was all complete idiocy. She wasn't perfect; she wasn't immune to that from time to time, unfortunately…

She left the conference room and was nearly run over by Jack.

"Woah sister," Jack said. "Watch where you're fucking merging." Jack looked over Miranda's shoulder, into the conference room. "Fancy digs. How come we don't use 'em more often."

"There's not been a need," Miranda said.

"Yeah yeah all right." Jack smirked. "Hey, I'm not arguing. Meeting's fucking suck."

"Agreed." Calm, cool, collected, change the subject. "How is your search going?"

"Real fucking slow," Jack said. "Listen, s'your A.I. need to be hooked up to everything? Can we like…unplug her from some shit so she can search faster? Two weeks and I haven't found shit."

"Absolutely not." Miranda fought against every instinct she had and softened her features. "Everything EDI is connected to is mission-critical. I'm sorry."

"I wasn't expecting a miracle." Despite that, Miranda could see Jack's shoulder slump ever so slightly. "S'long as you weren't bullshitting me earlier."

"I wasn't. We'll help you track down this Cerberus group, or at least whatever part of it is responsible for torturing you."

"You think it's just a part?"

"From what I've heard, Cerberus is rather large. It's likely more practical to keep different parts of it relatively autonomous from one another."

"Idiots. You're supposed to be this Black Ops outfit and you go and make yourself big? Whoever's in charge there isn't thinking straight."

"That argument could certainly be made." And with that, the conversation needed to be done. "Anyways, I have some notes to finish up. Good work protecting Dr. T'Soni, though; you helped us a great deal."

"Hey, violence is violence. Just glad I didn't fuck us over by killing the wrong person. Besides," Jack paused, then leaned against the nearest wall. "Well, fuck it, instinct's worked for me so far. And instinct told me there was fun stuff going on up those stairs."

"Well, you're a valued member of this crew—don't forget that." And Jacob's words—about wishing he could tell when she was being genuine—rang through her brain like someone lit a firecracker inside a church bell. The echoed and echoed and mixed in with her own thoughts about wishing The Illusive Man could give her some solid ground to stand on.

Dammit Jacob (but why damn him?).

"Well ain't that a warm and fuzzy feeling." Jack looked at the ground and Miranda took that as her cue to leave the now suffocatingly small passage between the lab and the armoury. Except, then Jack peeled herself off the wall and quickly stepped in Miranda's way. "Uh, wait—quick question."

Miranda's brow went up, because self-control eluded her at this moment. "Of course."

"That uh, locked room on the engineering deck. Not the one that Liara's in I mean, that's not locked anymore. The other one."

"The Port Cargo area?"

"Yeah that. What the hell're you hiding in there? Looks like a tube from the outside."

Right, yes, the krogan. Miranda had almost forgotten.

"The man that hired us wanted a krogan specimen. Sorry, a 'genetically perfect krogan' created by someone who apparently utilized Collector technology. That…tube you see is the nutrient tank this krogan specimen is stored in."

"Oh, shit, there's something alive in there?"

"We're not sure at this point. This krogan's creator seemed to think so, but we've yet to run the proper tests."

"Right, right…" Jack looked at the adjacent wall and rubbed her arm. "So uh…what's gonna happen to the krogan? Y'know, if they're alive."

"We…hmm." Good, yet another thing Miranda hadn't considered. "That's likely up to the man who hired us. If there's Collector tech in the specimen, he might want it dissected."

"It?"

"The specimen, sorry."

"So they're gonna get killed, is what you're saying."

"I've no idea, Jack," Miranda said. "That's not up to me. Sorry I…don't have a definitive answer right now."

Jack was silent for a while, then: "Yeah well, welcome to the party I guess."

Miranda excused herself and left Jack alone in that hallway between the armoury and the lab, because she had far too fucking much on her plate at the moment and, yes, it was perfectly fine to be a bit angry, just a bit, since even the person with the greatest self-control in the universe ought to be feeling a bit overwhelmed in this scenario.

Surely that was the case—surely.

4.

Ashley, Kaidan, and Thane had to wait a few hours until the Mars returned. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate: they had to wait a few hours until the Mars radioed them and Garrus said they'd re-entered the system, but for security reason's that'll become a lot more understandable once the gang's all together again, they couldn't dock anywhere. Liara had left some credit chits in with the datadisks and that was enough to rent an automated shuttle to bring them out into, well, outer space. But that more or less set the mood, the fact that for some reason or another, Garrus and Tali didn't feel safe bringing the Mars into dock. That set the mood and it really didn't mix well with Ashley's near-constant desire to explain why they'd just hired an assassin to everyone that had some vague connection to the Alliance.

You'd think that desire would go away after everyone learned that there was a friggin geth on board but, naturally, Ashley's brain was still focusing only on her own decisions.

Still…sorry that was a geth they'd brought on board. A geth locked in a containment field and, supposedly, completely offline, but still—a friggin geth.

"Well, uh…I get why you didn't wanna dock," Kaidan said.

"Good, because that's about where everything stops making sense," Garrus said.

"Meaning…?" Tali had her arms crossed.

"Meaning—meaning everything. Why it's here, what Shepard was doing, what…" Garrus paused, looked long and hard at Tali. "I'm not second guessing you, Tali."

The way Tali looked down at the geth platform, though, you could tell she was doing enough of that for the both of them.

Yeah, Ashley could relate.

First, though, was the debrief with Hackett, which went quickly—everyone basically rushed their way through what they had to say, figuring that the longer they spent reflecting the more they'd come to hate their decisions. Thane was elsewhere: his own decision. Better to explain why he was tagging along (for free, not that that part mattered particularly) before he made any appearances to senior Alliance personnel.

Hackett took it all in: the QED devices on corvettes were primitive, but you didn't need a top-end connection to see how little Hackett moved.

They were nearly through the entire conversation before Hackett said anything.

"I'm not a fan of losing Dr. T'Soni like that. She's been a good ally for the Alliance these last two years—we owe her a lot."

"All due respect, sir," Ashley said, "just her being with Cerberus is enough to make me hate it."

"I can't disagree with that either. I reached out to her before you officially left of Illium: she was there when Cerberus got their hands on Shepard's body. The data disks are probably helpful, but they're no substitute for her direct expertise."

"We're sorry, sir," Kaidan said.

"It happens. You've all had to deal with a lot more than any of us planned for—had to do a lot of improvisation. I'm not about to put the screws to you over things you can't control."

"Still feels like we're swimming in the dark, sir," Ashley said.

"We basically are." Hackett paused, then looked at Tali. "You took a hell of a risk grabbing that geth, Ms. Zorah. Helluva risk. But thinking about it…that's probably going to keep us a few steps ahead of Cerberus and the Collectors. If it knows as much as it claims, anyways."

Everyone expected Tali to say something. Everyone except Tali, apparently. Somehow, her mask looked even more opaque than normal.

"What's our next move with that thing?" Garrus said. "We're pretty isolated out here but, I'm not looking to test the kind of bandwidth the geth have, if it's all the same to everyone else."

"No argument there," Ashley said.

"We'll need some time to set up a secure facility," Hackett said. "And that means looking to Anderson to pull the right strings. We don't want a repeat of the Luna V.I."

"Poor guy," Kaidan said. "Bet he's feeling like Shepard cursed him good right about now."

Ashley gave him a look, but Hackett nodded.

"That, I can confirm. But we're in uncharted territory right now. We can't ignore the politics."

"Are we in uncharted territory?" Kaidan said. His stomach did a little flip when he realized that just sorta spilled out but…well, it was out there. It was out there and there was a thread that needed tugging on, wasn't there? "What I mean is…shit, I mean exactly what it sounds like. Another rogue Spectre agent—so far as anyone'll know, anyways—running around, killing everything in sight. People'll notice the parallels right away."

The ship fell silent. Confirmation enough that he wasn't the only person having those thoughts. Shit…not a good time to be in the majority.

"I guess my point is…maybe it's best if we go public with this. Maybe we tell the galaxy what's going on before the conspiracy theorists start passing out the tinfoil hats."

"Little late for that Skipper," Ashley said. Angry—oh yeah was she angry—but Kaidan could tell it wasn't directed at anyone in particular. Well, maybe one person: the same person talking right now. "We just hired a goddamn assassin," she said.

"The guy's working for free. Besides, we saved the galaxy with an archeologist and a bounty hunter." Kaidan shifted his weight to his other foot. "We've got precedent."

"You seriously think people'll see it that way? You think the press'll see it that way?"

"They'll see it whatever way they want," Garrus said. "But…Kaidan's right. When this leaks—and it will leak; too many people on Horizon saw what we saw—then the Alliance'll only look worse for not saying something."

"That's exactly my point," Kaidan said. "Saren almost sunk the Council and with the Reapers at the galaxy's edge, the last thing we want is to make people doubt our institutions are working."

Ashley sighed. "I get it, I get it. I just don't know if anyone else'll get it. Who's to say our institutions are working? Who's to say they won't bungle the message up and make it worse."

"Worse than if we let it leak out? Ash, I don't see how that's possible."

"Doesn't mean it's not a possibility. Who knows what kind of backroom deals this'll get mixed up in?"

All eyes (well, every set of eyes minus Tali's, who were still hidden behind her mask) fell on Hackett. He looked in control of himself. He looked like he was seriously pondering the situation.

How the hell d'you get to the point in life where nothing phases you anymore?

"If Anderson's the one that breaks the news, we can guarantee he'll do it right. And we can guarantee that most people will buy what he's saying."

"That's a lot to put on his shoulders…" Garrus said. "But…it makes sense. You think he'd be willing to do that?"

"Anderson knows the score." His image turned to Ashley. "Well, Lieutenant? You raised some good objections: how's this new plan fare?"

"Honestly, sir? I haven't the foggiest idea."

"Unfortunately, I think that's the right answer. We're running on faith, people. But I won't make a move unless the experts in the field think what we're doing is reasonable. That'd be you four, as of right now."

Everyone—even Tali this time—looked around, looked at each other. Garrus nodded; so did Tali. Ashley nodded too—a bit reluctantly, but she did—and that left Kaidan. Technically, he was the highest-ranking person on that ship. Technically, that was the case.

Technically.

"If Anderson'll go for it," he said, "then that's probably our best bet."

"Just…send him our condolences," Ashley said. "Tell him we know that we're making him shove his fist through a meat-grinder."

"We're making him do worse than that, but I'll tell him." His image turned to Tali again. "And if he gets us a secure facility on top of everything else, will you be willing to spearhead whatever needs to be done to that geth you captured?"

Tali didn't say anything—not right away. Then she straightened up, like she was pulling her limbs back into place, and for the first time in a long while, everyone could see her eyes again.

"My father—he's doing research on the geth. On a secure ship—the Alarei. We can do what needs to be done there; the Alliance doesn't need to be directly involved."

"The Migrant Fleet will go for that?"

"I don't know about the Fleet…but Father instructed me to bring back whatever geth parts I could find." She looked over her shoulder: the geth platform wasn't in the room with them, but she was looking in the general direction of where they'd stored it. "I'm just following through on his request."

A long silence, then, "All right, that will work. I'm leaving it to you to decide what this unit's next goal is. I know better than to micromanage."

"Sir?" Kaidan said.

"We're fighting a hell of a bigger fish than Shepard, remember that. This geth platform could have information on the Reapers, the Collectors, whatever's happening to our colonists—everything. Everything we said before about how we might get things to line up for us? With that geth platform, we don't have to hope anymore: things will line up for us. We can finally get some answers." He paused; his expression didn't change, but the pause was...noticeable. "And with us going public, it's not out of the realm of possibility that the Alliance sends someone else to take Shepard out."

"That doesn't sound like the Alliance," Garrus said.

"I made a lot of calls to the Commander two years ago that, to this day, nobody knows took place. I'm pretty frugal when it comes to calling in favours from N7-certified soldiers. Others, not so much. If FLEETCOM or the Cabinet decides that other people need to be hunting for her, then other people are going to be hunting for her."

"Sir, with all due-respect—"

Hackett raised a virtual hand, cutting Ashley off. "I get it, Lieutenant. I get that you four are supposed to take the lead on this. For multiple reasons—I get it. But don't be surprised if that's not how things play out." For the first time, Hackett showed signs of exhaustion: it was all over his posture. "So I leave it to you four to decide whether Shepard's still the priority or not. The sooner she's dealt with, the sooner the Alliance can concentrate on the colonies and the Reapers—but maybe that's something the four of you should get a head-start on anyways. It's your call."

Another pause.

"Hackett out."

Kaidan just barely stopped himself from saying that, again, they had a lot to think about.

5.

"Any word?"

"No, Tina—nothing. I'll let you know."

"Maybe that's a sign."

"Maybe you should focus on the edits and let me worry about the politics."

"Sure, Khalisah. Sure."

Khalisah dialed the News Director again and hoped to god that nobody would pick up.

6.

Udina had held some manner of political office for the vast majority of his 65 years, but even to this day, he couldn't tell what portion of the Cabinet he regarded as friends and what portion were simply people he had to put up with in some capacity. This was true of the previous Alliance government and the one before that; it would certainly be true of the government that succeeded Amul Shastri, assuming Udina hadn't retired by that point. The Alliance took much of its governing structure from the Commonwealth nations, including the lack of explicit term limits on party leaders since, technically, the Prime Minister was only the Head of Government and not the Head of State (there was no Head of State, since the Alliance was not, it repeatedly insisted to its colonies and Earthbound supporters, a "state" in the traditional sense). And Shastri was quite popular, for reasons both good and bad.

Shastri…Udina was sure Shastri was a friend. A friend that still had a job to do, obviously, but a friend nonetheless.

So it wasn't all that surprising that Shastri looked taken-aback that Udina had taken Anderson's place in view of everyone else, but in private had given Udina a strong handshake and a big smile.

"Just like old times, eh?" Shastri said.

"I'd prefer old times to interesting ones," Udina said. "You wouldn't believe the state of the Citadel right now."

"Is Anderson not holding up well?"

"Surprisingly, he's the least of it. We budged ahead of the volus and everyone knows it; the Council's likely had a collective five hours of sleep in the past year, given how often Din Korlack is pestering them."

"The volus ambassador, right?"

"At this point, he's more like the volus Marat. Off the record, of course, I can't help but like the bugger—so long as he's not in my ear about this and that injustice. Or going off the deep-end and massacring the lot of us."

"Well, better you than I, my friend."

"Careful, Amul—I might take that personally."

Of course, once it was down to business—once Udina was before the Cabinet, two-thirds of whom belonged to Shastri's Moderate Party and one-third belonging to the Social Democrats—then, there was no quarrel. They didn't mince words; they didn't fall back on inuendo. Few people who weren't family had the distinct misfortune of hearing politicians speak frankly, and naturally, career bureaucrats were one such person.

Udina couldn't blame them.

He'd received hints of what had happened from Anderson—but only that, hints. He didn't realize that the "person of interest" on Horizon was a long-dead, decidedly public Spectre whom Udina had the privilege of being repeatedly stonewalled, insulted (well not directly, but he could read subtext, thank you very much), ignored, and otherwise disrespected by for several long, tense, prematurely aging months.

Shepard, the reports in front of the Cabinet said, was alive. And despite her status as a paragon of humanity and goodness and the selfless struggle for the lost and forgotten, she apparently didn't care one iota for collateral damage anymore.

Political shitstorm? Political maelstrom? Political super-nova? Udina had to stretch the limits of his vocabulary.

"This, is an impossibly bad situation." Shastri said that, but it summed up the general consensus of everyone. Including Udina but, of course, Udina couldn't say as much.

"Rest assured, it is being handled."

"By whom?"

"By the right people, of course. Are we not Earth's representatives on the Citadel? We're duty bound to act when all evidence suggests we must. That's what we've done."

"Again I ask: whom? Who are we talking about? You may—excuse me—you and Anderson may be so duty-bound, but unless you are contracting outside the Alliance, we should have names."

"The implication being," said Benjamin Attinger, the Minister for Justice and Public Safety, "that since we don't have any names, we're led to believe Anderson is no longer recognizing our oversight."

"That may be acceptable to some," Shastri said, "but we would not have that Constitutional convention if the majority were not put off by that sort of thing."

"And with Terra Firma gaining more and more seats?" this was Jasmine Gerwig, the leader of the Social Democrats and the Alliance's Minister for Intragalactic Affairs. "We all know what'll happen if they start campaigning about a 'rogue Councillor'. It'll get nasty."

"Nastier than it already is," Shastri said.

"Need I remind this Cabinet that Anderson was your choice for Councillor," Udina said. "This very same Cabinet, plus or minus a few faces, unanimously selected him as our representative on the Citadel. Now, am I led to believe, you don't trust him?"

"This is about oversight," Shastri said. "Nothing more. We would be much more confident in him—and you—if we could have a list of names."

"Unless the Office of the Councillor doesn't answer to the Alliance Parliament anymore," Attinger said.

And after a moment's silence—just a moment—everyone in that room realized what Udina was desperately trying to hide.

"You don't know, do you?" That was Robert Morton, Minister of Defense and officious prick. Of course he'd be the one to say it out loud.

"I can't, at this time, comment," Udina said.

"Then this meeting is adjourned until you get them," Shastri said.

"Anderson is currently meeting with the Council," Udina said.

"We will be happy to wait," Shastri said.

And Udina stood from his chair, walked to the nearest door, opened his omni-tool, and wondered aloud why his family's history of heart attacks was taking so damn long to finish him off.

7.

"Anderson?" Kahlee said. "Hey, so, ten minutes, huh?"

"Guess it was more like fifteen," Anderson said.

"Try thirty."

"Well…I had some things to do, after Udina left."

Udina had, in fact, left around half an hour ago—it was true. He'd be in transit for another two hours and, by that time, Anderson would be starting his meeting with the Council. But right now it was just him and the secure hologram of Kahlee Sanders, an instructor with the Ascension Project at Grissom Academy, someone he hadn't seen in person in ages, and who he'd only kept up with sporadically since…well, since he'd gotten his first taste of Saren Arterius and just how much of a bastard that Spectre really was.

They'd both seen some nightmarish stuff in their years—Kahlee, he knew, had a run-in with another Cerberus project gone wrong around the same time Shepard was hunting Saren down—and while she'd spared him the details, he could just tell. He could tell it was the Reapers; he could tell it was something that ninety-nine point nine-nine percent of the galaxy couldn't even imagine dealing with.

One in a million—that's what she was. In more ways than one.

"Thought you might've blown me off there," her image said. "Not that I'd blame you. I can't imagine what you've gotta deal with right now."

"It's worse than what the paper's are saying, believe me," Anderson said. "Still…I know I'm not the only one. How're things on your end?"

"Vaguely normal. Vaguely…yeah. One of these days, I'll tell you what happened."

"Assuming I get through this without getting recalled…I'll do the same."

"Recalled?" Her image flickered, like she'd just made a move to start pacing but realized, last second, that the QED wouldn't like that very much. "All right, you've…look, I'll listen, you talk."

"I'm sorry I…I'm sorry this is the first thing I throw at you, after being AWOL for so long."

"Yeah well…little late for that now, David. No offense."

"No…no I deserve that. I just don't know who else to turn to."

"All right. Well…hit me."

That he did: swearing her to secrecy, he told her about Shepard, about the unit he'd set up, about how he'd ordered the assassination of what might as well have been his child. And now, people he trusted—people he knew had a straight head about these things—they were telling him to go public. Tell everyone; let the whole galaxy know. Get out ahead of this thing before the world crumbled at a time where everyone was far more vulnerable than they realized.

Even just saying it…he wasn't sure if he'd managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he doubted it.

"So…that's what they're telling you to do? Hackett and everyone—this is what they're suggesting?"

"Yeah."

"And you trust them?"

"If they weren't already working for me, I'd be seeking them out as we speak. It's them or it's nobody, end of discussion."

"Seems like you've made up your mind, then. Why call me?"

Anderson paused. He'd thought ahead—he knew what he wanted to say—but…goddamn this job, if even just being honest was a struggle, then what the hell kind of hope did he have to get through this?

Eventually, he said, "Because this all seems too easy."

"As in, something's gonna go wrong?"

"No, that—that's a risk no matter what. I've come to accept that. I mean that I feel like I'm playing god."

"Playing god?"

"I've already sanctioned a hit squad against the greatest hero this species has ever known. Now I'm about to tell everyone she's a rampaging monster. We're going from singing her praises to telling everyone to 'shoot on sight,' and that's one hundred percent my decision—my responsibility. I had to do a lot of stuff I'm not proud of when I was actively serving, but I never had the power to move planets. I'd've said no the moment someone offered for Christ's sake."

"So you…you're feeling like you're playing with people's lives? Is that it?"

"That's it exactly."

"And with the life of someone you really care about in particular?"

"No."

"Why the hell not, though? Anderson, I know we don't talk much, but I remember how you used to talk about Shepard. She was your daughter—I'd be worried if you didn't feel that way."

"It's bigger than me being a father figure—way bigger."

"So? Doesn't mean you can't start small. Doesn't mean the close and personal's just thrown out. Hell, Anderson—if you've gotta do what you say you've gotta do, then you'll be one of the few people who remembers Shepard for the person she was. Don't lose that."

Again, Anderson paused. He soaked in Kahlee's words. He knew—deep down, he knew—that he wouldn't've tried to talk to her if he didn't trust what she had to say. So don't ignore it, don't brush it off. She was right: too few people would remember Shepard the way he and her former crew would. And those four…God, by the end of this thing, they might end up losing even that, given what he was making them do.

Goddamn this job.

"But you agree that this is something I have to do," Anderson said. "You agree that I have to stand up in front of an army of reporters and kill Shepard all over again."

"I get the logic behind it, yeah. If word gets out that you've been keeping Shepard a secret then…yeah, I get it." Kahlee's image flickered again. "But it's not illogical to care about someone, even in a situation like this. She's still a person—or, she was, I don't know. But thinking otherwise—thinking that the only thing you're allowed to do is embrace cold calculus—that's…that's how you get Cerberus."

That's how you get Cerberus…

That's how you get Cerberus.

"David? Look, the image isn't that great, but I saw that. I saw that thing you just did, with your eyebrows. You just got an idea."

"I think I have to go, Kahlee."

"Yeah…yeah, guess you do." Kahlee's image smiled. "Hey, listen—don't worry about becoming God or anything. I know how to work you over."

"Music to my ears," Anderson said, returning the smile. "And, Kahlee—we'll be in touch. I owe you. I owe you a lot."

Kahlee's image disappeared and, after a few barked commands, the one that replaced it was Hackett's.

"Anderson?"

"Hackett, I need a copy of the data disks Liara gave Alenko and Williams."

"Now? They're still being decrypted. Parts of them, anyway."

"Give me what you have. I'll make it work."

"Make what work, Anderson?"

He didn't reply. In silence, Hackett put the pieces together himself.

"All right—I'll have my people get them together. Two hours, tops."

"That'll be perfect," Anderson said.

He wasn't going to kill Shepard again—he wouldn't have to. He'd simply tell the truth.

Powerful thing, truth. Powerful thing…

8.

"Hey, doc. Yo doc!"

"Hmm what? What?" Mordin looked up from his work (computer simulation of squad in Seeker Swarm with minimally effective countermeasure; unlikely to have such low performance but, still, results…unsettling) and saw Jack leaning over his workstation. Leaning very closely to important tissue samples on workstation. "Ah, Jack. Careful with arm—delicate samples. Could set research back weeks if not careful."

"Huh?" Jack moved her arm but, well, what the hell, what's he so worried about. "So? You're smart—probably easier the second time, right?"

"Easier, yes. Time running out though. Without working countermeasures, entire team vulnerable to Collector attack."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"Paralysis. Capture. Possible experimentation. Could simply be…torn apart. Seeker Swarms capable of multiple attacks." Mordin frowned. "Assume hint of curiosity in voice for purely morbid reasons. Please, happy to talk, but watch the specimen."

Jack obliged.

"All right, sorry I asked…" She walked across the room to an innocent looking computer panel, made some whistling noises as she clacked away (and, looking over her shoulder, noticed the doc didn't so much as steal a glance in her direction), and then she let out the sigh she'd been holding in.

Mordin picked up on that, bastard.

"Something wrong?"

"Yeah look doc uh…whaddya know about the krogan on the engineering deck?"

"Ah, supposed 'genetically pure' krogan. Hpmh, unlikely. 'Genetic purity' a myth; genes either aid in fitness or don't, but require diversity of allele and expression—purity a counterproductive endeavour. Blinded by utterly erroneous view of evolution: fitness best and reliably enhanced by robust culture—social learning, experimentation, artistic expression, appreciation of creations of others. Positive selection on genes. Adaptability key. Better recoil control on larger shotguns…contributes little. None, in long run. Only...bodies."

"Jeez, sorry, touched a nerve."

Mordin inhaled sharply. "Yes. Yes you did. Dislike pseudo-scientific justifications for cruelty. Will make no apologies for outburst."

"Cruelty? Pfft. Sure you don't just hate the krogan?"

For the second time in way too fucking short a period, Jack felt a chill from the look someone else on this ship gave her.

"Just kidding," she said.

"Jokes need work, then," Mordin said.

"Look I'm just…I'm just wondering about the krogan in there is all. Like if they're alive, conscious, y'know, trapped."

Mordin's look softened. He stopped working on whatever it was he was working and walked to Jack's side. She…didn't realize how tall salarians were.

"Unlikely to be conscious. Suspended animation—nutrient solution should sustain them for lengthy period of time. Baring catastrophic failure of systems, of course. EDI monitoring situation—gave me her word personally."

"The A.I.?"

"Correct." Mordin's smile grew. "Worried about occupant?" Then, the smile disappeared. "Other reason for being curious?"

"Shit, they're a krogan. Why be worried."

"Indeed…"

"Jack had an encounter with Miranda Lawson," EDI said from the localized speakers in the lab, "where she was informed that the krogan specimen was likely to be dissected by our employer. Her barometric data suggested that she did not find Ms. Lawson's answer comforting."

"Oh for the love of—" A second voice—Joker's—cut in on the speakers. "Yeah uh, hi, I'd like to apologize for Skynet getting so snoopy all of a sudden. EDI for fuck's sake—"

Both their voices cut off.

"Fucking shit," Jack said.

"Ah," Mordin said, his grin back in full.

"Don't get any fucking ideas, doc."

"Concern for individual in similar circumstance to you. Very noble. Also answers long-standing question of mine." Mordin took a deep breath, his smile only growing wider. "Ahhhh—good day for inquiry."

"Fuck's sake…" Jack shook her head and growled (and would've growled more when she realized that Mordin didn't so much as flinch, but goddamn him he was throwing her off). "Fine, yeah great day for whatever-the-fuck. Help me bust them out."

Bye bye went Mordin's smile. "Beg pardon?"

"Help me open his tank. C'mon—it'll be fun."

"Compensation for presumed loss of respect not needed," Mordin said. "Frankly, wasn't very intimidated to start with."

"'Scuse me?"

"Believe I made myself perfectly clear."

"Fine. What about ethics and shit?"

"Ethics and…?"

"Yeah. They're gonna experiment on them. So, what, you're a doctor right? So you've gotta save him."

Mordin stayed quiet. He stayed quiet for too damn long.

"Uh, hello?"

"Yes. Yes argument…poorly formatted, but accurate nonetheless. Will assist." Deep inhale. "Lead the way."

"Uh…is the A.I. gonna tattle on us or something?"

"Believe she is occupied. Best move now, just in case."

"All right. Yeah then…follow me, I guess."

Jack started walking and that freakishly tall, lanky-as-fuck salarian followed her.

"Doc?"

"Mmm?"

"What question of yours did I just answer? With the—y'know. What you said back there."

"Ah," Mordin said. "Wondered if you were possibly suffering from primary or even secondary psychopathy." Mordin's smile returned in full. "Pleased to see you're not."

9.

They'd been quiet for a good long while, all cramped in the comm room on the SSV Mars. Nearly two and a half feet of titanium separated the room and the corvette's engines, but it was so goddamn quiet that they might as well have been standing right next to them.

Or maybe it'd only been a few seconds since Hackett hung up—who the hell knew anymore? Nothing in the universe made sense; why should the passage of time be any different?

Ashley punched the nearest wall. It felt like the right thing to do, even if all she was feeling now was pins and needles.

"Echoes like hell in here…" Kaidan said.

"What the hell? What the hell is all this?" Ashley started pacing. "Anderson's about to go public—I mean, even if he wasn't, we should be going after the Collectors, right? Haven't we just been wasting our time with this? Haven't we just…Cerberus is out there right now doing god knows what stupid thing, but at least they think they're saving the colonists!"

"Nobody's said we're not switching gears," Kaidan said. "We're just…we're just brainstorming. I think."

"Nobody's said it, yeah, I know. But I'm just…why am I still thinking we need to go after Shepard? Or, whatever the hell her body is?"

"Does it matter?" Garrus said. "Seems to me, you said it already: we should regroup, go after the Collectors, and then get to work on the Reapers. Same mission we had with Shepard, just a different ugly face on the other end of the scope."

"It matters, Garrus," Tali said. "You know it matters. We've already had this debate and the fact that Shepard is even still a target shows that it matters."

"You mean because I hesitated? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes, exactly that. If it didn't matter who we were hunting you would have—"

"I seem to recall, Tali, that you jumped at the gun to go after Shepard too."

"I wanted to blow up Cerberus—then I wanted to get off Illium before any more people started staring at us! But if we're talking about why we all feel the need to run after the Commander—"

"Hold it," Kaidan said. "Just hold it—for half a friggin second, all right? I can tell, we're all on the verge of another argument—so let's just…let's just cool it for a second, all right? For no other reason that we're in a tight space right now."

Everyone looked at everyone else. Shame crept onto everyone's faces the more their eyes darted from one friend to another.

Again, Ashley broke the silence—this time, though, with a sigh.

"You hesitated?" she said to Garrus.

His mandibles twitched. Then, "Yes."

"I would've too."

"Look you—about last time…you don't need to make me feel better. Honest."

"I'm being honest—I would've hesitated too. Why d'you think I asked an assassin to come with us?"

"Because he's a snappy dresser?"

Everyone smiled and chuckled. That was…that was good.

"See, this is the thing—this is what we've been missing," Kaidan said. "I'm serious, when Shepard was around? We talked. We were honest with each other. So…so let's be honest with each other. We're in a safe space right now—I mean it, nobody except Hackett knows we're here—and that geth isn't waking up anytime soon. So let's just…let's just talk."

Kaidan's own self-awareness came back online and he realized he'd blitzed that off without tripping over any of his words. That was…that was also all right. That was…that was an improvement.

Again, Ashley broke the silence.

"I want this thing dead. I want it dead so fucking badly. Every time I look at it…her, it, I don't even know anymore, but every time I see that armour, I feel like the universe is laughing at me. I can't even begin to tell you guys what seeing Shepard in action meant for me; right now, it feels like I'm basically losing my religion."

"In a…in a literal sense?" Kaidan said.

"Yeah, in a literal sense. It's easy to believe in God when someone like Shepard exists."

"And now that she's another failed Cerberus experiment…" Garrus said.

"Exactly. So that's me—that's my honest-to-God (no pun intended) story." She looked around at the rest of the crew. "Don't leave me hanging, people—I like you but saying all that fucking hurt."

Tali sighed. "I don't even know what to think. That geth platform we brought aboard? The one I just offered up to my father? I saw it beg me for help. I've never seen a geth beg for anything. I've certainly never seen a geth beg a quarian for something."

"What d'you think it means?" Ashley said.

"I don't know. All I know is, I thought it was even weirder than it talking to me in the first place." Tali shrugged. "I feel like an accessory. Even more than normal, I mean."

"Aw c'mon Tali…" Ashley said.

"No, it's fine. It's a quarian thing.

"That's hardly fine," Garrus said.

"But I just mean…the geth, Cerberus, the Collectors: while we're having a debate over what to do with Shepard, my mind's only going back to Flotilla matters." Another shrug. "I don't know what my priorities should be."

"You're here for a reason," Garrus said. "Don't ever forget that."

"I'd just like to know what that reason is, if these are the debates we're having. I can help with the geth and the Reapers; I don't know what good I'll be hunting Shepard."

"Well…if it's any consolation, Tali, you're not the only one who's unsure where their mind is." Kaidan crossed his arms. "Technically, I'm a single rank higher than Shepard ever got—and sometimes it feels like a betrayal. But what's worse? What's worse is that it only feels that way sometimes. I've done so little mourning for Shepard that I feel like I've gotta apologize to her the next time I see her, as weird a sentence to say as that is." Kaidan unfolded his arms and leaned back against the nearest wall. "So there's where I fall on this: if we don't go after Shepard, I get to pretend she's dead and I can get to mourning her properly whenever I want. I'd understand if you all wanted to strip me of my rank, after that."

"Hey, Skipper," Ashley said, "none of that talk. You've gotta follow your own rules too—just honesty, no judgement."

"Shepard's rules, you mean."

"Doesn't matter—we're following them now, right?"

Kaidan smiled. "Right. Fair enough…"

All eyes fell on Garrus, and he wished they hadn't. Easy enough for them to be honest, wasn't it? Easy enough for them to talk freely. If Kaidan was embarrassed about his answer, then what would anyone think about the turian with a pathological need to run away from his avalanche of failures? C'mon, Alenko—tell me. Tell me where that's supposed to fall on the embarrassment spectrum?

Garrus's mandibles were threatening to fly off his face again—he couldn't feel them move at this point, but he could see them in Tali's helmet.

"It's a tough call. Shepard's a threat but she's still our friend. Maybe we're just letting sentiment get in the way, letting her run around, focusing on the Collectors…but maybe that's how we save the most lives too. Hard to say."

Everyone was still staring at him.

"Like I said, it's a tough call."

"That sounded like a threat assessment," Tali said.

"What's wrong with that?"

"We're supposed to be opening up to each other."

"I did, Tali—I did. I'm telling you what's going on inside my head."

"No personal stake?" Tali said. "What about everything you said earlier? About…about speaking for you, the single person?"

"Like I said—I'm a turian." Yeah, a turian that hates to follow rules…even the ones set up by your friend, designed to make the world just a little bit better, one conversation at a time. Sorry, Shepard…sorry.

Tali didn't push it. Neither did Ashley or Kaidan. Maybe it was the face he was making. Maybe they just didn't care.

Kaidan sighed.

"All right, well…we've said our peace. We know where we stand. I get the feeling…I get the feeling that most of us want to refocus." He turned to Ash. "Is that okay?"

"I don't wanna hold the unit back," she said.

"No, no you wouldn't. The point is to consider all the options, right? You told us why you wanna go after Shepard, and I get it."

"I do too," Tali said. "Even if my mind isn't focused on that right now."

"Make me three," Garrus said.

"And I'm here, hoping we go after the Collectors so I don't have to think about the things you're thinking about. So we're even. I just don't want you feeling outvoted."

Ashley stayed quiet and thought, and thought, and thought…and then she sighed. Fourth time tonight or something, God…where the hell did here steely exterior go?

"We've still got an assassin tagging along," she said.

"We need the extra manpower, like you said."

"Yeah, I know Skipper…God, I'm fishing for excuses. That's reason enough to know I don't have a leg to stand on."

"Hackett left it to us for a reason," Garrus said. "And besides, he's right—even with Shepard going public, she's still a massive unknown. Every major Alliance operation—every major Citadel operation—is now a damn-sight less predictable with her running around. And if anyone else gets sent after her…well there's no guarantee they'll even get close."

"Are you changing your vote?" Kaidan said.

"I never voted in the first place," Garrus said. "I'm just laying out the variables here."

"Gun to your head, though, which way're you voting?"

"Gun to my head…gun to my head, I'm sticking with the majority. We should refocus." Why? Well…nothing that needed to be worried about. It certainly wasn't something Garrus was worried about.

In fact, the only thing Garrus was thinking about at that moment was the assassin sitting outside the comm room. Someone—apparently with a reputation for doing the impossible—was right there. And a certain someone was out in the galaxy, free, while an entire team lay in shallow graves on Omega.

"So it's settled?" Kaidan said. "I'm letting Hackett and Anderson know we're shifting gears?"

"Does that mean we're all going to the Flotilla?" Tali said.

"If you'll have us," Ashley said.

"I'd really appreciate not going back alone."

"Then yeah, that's where we're going," Kaidan said.

You got it, Kaidan—you got it. But hopefully Thane would be open to having a little chat before our plans get set in stone…

10.

"Still nothing?"

"I'll tell you when it's something other than nothing, all right?"

"Yeah all right—Jesus."

"Don't want me to get snippy? Then don't ask me if anyone's picking up every five minutes! Simple as that."

"Khalisah, it's been an hour and a half…

"…just focus on your own work, all right?"

11.

"I'm sorry Mr. Udina, but Councillor Anderson isn't available at the moment."

"And why, pray tell, might that be?"

"Well he's…he's got a meeting…"

"I know that I…I'm well aware of that, but I'm also well aware that this meeting hasn't started yet."

"Sorry Mr. Udina but…maybe he's prepping."

"…of course, that's surely it."

Click.

Anderson's secretary looked over at Din Korlack's secretary.

"*skuuuush* Rough job…isn't it? *skuuuuush*"

"Yeah. It's like babysitting, except I can't even take anything from the fridge."

"*skuuuuush* And…twice as many diapers to change, mm? *skuuuuush*"

Anderson's secretary chuckled. "Yeah…you got that right."

12.

It wasn't just one thing. Shepard wasn't just one thing. She was…Goddess, so few people had shown Liara the level of kindness that Shepard had—or the level of trust, of faith, for that matter. Liara didn't like to mention how she always felt underestimated, but she did; she always had. And it was funny: a part of Liara had assumed all comparable people in the galaxy—the people from well-known families, pursuing careers that had some level of prestige and expectation attached to them—had similar feelings. Imposter syndrome gone mad, something like that. But after Liara met Shepard…she realized just how much more trust and care a person could give to another, if they only bothered to try.

It wasn't just one thing, but Noveria…what Shepard did for Liara after Noveria stood out above everything else.

She'd locked herself in her room—or, what passed for a room on the Normandy. The laboratory and storage facility in the medi-bay, that was where she'd spent most of her time. And she'd locked the doors—physically locked them—to keep Dr. Chakwas and everyone else from disturbing her. Goddess knows how long she'd spent in there, but it was long enough for her stomach cramps to get to truly unbearable levels. She had to eat and…and she expected to be swarmed the moment she stepped out.

She was not. There was a note—a handwritten note—waiting for her instead. It told her to come to Shepard's cabin whenever she felt she was able, and to not worry about being accosted on the way there. The crew knew to give her space.

So Liara went to Shepard's cabin and…and just sat on Shepard's bed. For hours—it actually had been hours, rather than just feeling that way. And all Shepard hadn't said a word; she was just there, in as much a capacity as Liara needed.

For hours and hours on end, Shepard treated Liara like the most important person in the universe. It was enough to help Liara process a few things, realize that her mother couldn't have broken through Sovereign's indoctrination if she didn't truly love her daughter, and…and just know that it was all right to grieve. That the universe wasn't going to judge her the accomplice of a war criminal simply because she'd loved a woman who had been brainwashed.

"They will…they will still destroy her name, Shepard," Liara said at one point. She could remember just how weak her voice had become. "Everything that my mother did in her life…she will never be forgiven for what she has done."

"Liara, that won't be how it plays out."

"You do not understand, Shepard—you…you do not know what a Matriarch represents! She…they will think she violated every oath that the asari have taken they…they will think the name 'Matriarch' will be forever tainted in the eyes of the galaxy! They will—"

"Hey, Liara just…" Shepard crossed the room, then, and sat next to Liara. Even now, over two years later, Liara could perfectly remember the intensity of that look. "That won't be how it plays out," Shepard said.

And she'd been true to her word. Not everyone believed what she'd said, but Shepard had been true to her word. She and Anderson and Steven Hackett—even that rat Udina, for all his faults—they'd all helped make sure that Benezia's sacrifices were known. Her mother hadn't been killed twice…

And yet, Liara had let that happen to Shepard. She'd helped Cerberus turn Jane into…into something horrible. Something that annihilated more and more of the good will Shepard had so rightfully earned with every death, every act of violence, every grotesquery that her corpse visited on others. Whether what she knew as "Shepard" was still alive in that abomination, Liara couldn't be sure; but that didn't matter to the galaxy at large.

They'd crucify her now, just like they'd crucified Saren. And Liara had played a deciding role.

Goddess…the Starboard Cargo Area was so much more cramped than her place on the old Normandy—and whatever Cerberus decided to call this new vessel, it was obviously supposed to be a new Normandy. Cramped and hostile and…and even still, there was no way Liara would take the captain's cabin. Not on this vessel, not when she knew who was originally supposed to be up there.

Nobody went to the shuttle bay, apparently; maybe some time in a large, empty room would help get her mind off…well, everything. And she'd be far away from Joker, too, who she couldn't help but noticed kept staring at her like he was seeing a ghost.

Liara walked out of her room and into the main engineering hallway and found that two other individuals were already there: Professor Solus and that Jack woman.

"Professor Solus?" Liara said. "And, um, Jack. What are you two doing down here?"

"I live here, genius." Jack pointed at the floor. "Home sweet home."

"You're living in the floor?"

"Yeah—right under your feet. Better behave, 'cuz otherwise I'll know."

"Hmm…was wondering where you spent most of your time," Mordin said. He shook his head. "Ah, anyways: going to Port Cargo Area. Checking on krogan specimen. Ah…planning to open tank, as a matter of fact."

"It's gonna be fun," Jack said.

"I'm not sure how that qualifies as fun," Liara said.

"Whatever—talk to the doc about the ethics and shit. We made up our minds." Jack started heading towards the Port Cargo Area. Mordin…did not.

"Plans likely to change in light of new evidence!" he called after her.

"I don't think she's listening," Liara said.

"Yes—seems to be case. Would…appreciate back-up. Reasons for opening tank are…present. However, dealing with multiple unknowns. Risk of catastrophe…rather large."

Before Liara could answer, the elevator door opened. Out came the other asari on board—Samara, the Justicar.

"Dr. Solus, Dr. T'Soni," she said. "I see there is an ongoing conference of the minds."

"Mmm, flattering assumption. Incorrect, though: other matters." He glanced over at the window to the Port Cargo Area. You could see Jack looking at the tube with intent…and given who she was, that probably wasn't a good thing. Time…moving quickly.

"Are you currently engaged in these other matters?" Samara said to Liara.

"I'm…not sure." She looked at Mordin, who looked…well, nervous. "Professor Solus asked me to help him and Jack with this…other matter."

"I see," Samara said. "I can postpone my meeting with you until a later time, then."

"We had a meeting planned?"

"No, but I thought it best to come and speak to you. I have a great amount of respect for all that you have done; I wanted to tell you that in person."

Again, before Liara could say anything, the elevator door opened. Out stepped Jacob Taylor.

"The hell? Am I missing something?" he said.

"We're apparently talking about how we want to talk to each other," Liara said.

"Sounds about right," Jacob said. He looked at Samara. "Been meaning to talk to you, matter of fact."

"What do you wish to speak to me about, Mr. Taylor?"

"Just about how you're settling in…and if you've killed any crewmembers yet."

Samara, somehow, didn't look the least bit phased. "Unless they force me to do so, your crew has nothing to fear from me."

"Yeah, well, we're a…merc ship," Jacob said. "And I saw what you did in Nos Astra. I'm concerned how things're gonna pan out here." He crossed his arms. "Just thought I'd be transparent."

"Your honesty is appreciated, Mr. Taylor." Samara folded her arms behind her back. "But I have sworn an oath to Ms. Lawson. I will not break it."

"Yeah, I saw. Goodie."

"Ah, yes," Mordin said. "Don't want to impose on conversation. However, we—"

"Mordin," EDI said through the nearest speaker, "it appears that Jack has begun pressing buttons."

"Problematic!" Mordin said.

And with that, off Mordin went, towards Jack and her button pressing. After a second's pause, Liara and Samara and Jacob went after him. They all entered the Port Cargo Area just as Jack graduated from pressing buttons to kicking them.

"Stupid fucking machines, man," she said.

"Jack," EDI said through the speaker in the room, "I would recommend not applying blunt force trauma to sensitive instruments."

"I'd recommend you not telling me what to do," Jack said. She leveled another kick at a console before anyone could step in and prevent the inevitable from happing. Something important cracked and an alarm went off. Depending on your point of view, this was either a good thing or an aggressively not good thing.

"Hell yeah—progress!" Jack said.

"Exceptionally problematic," Mordin said.

The rest of the group just stared.

The alarm died out and, near the bottom of the tube, a lever activated. Viscous liquid—about the same consistency and colour as raw egg whites—started pouring onto the floor.

"Ewww," Jack said. She started backing up towards the rest of the group…who were already a foot or so further back than before, now that everyone could see the 'krogan specimen' locked inside the tank.

God was he massive.

Restraints that weren't all that dissimilar to the ones that held Jack captive in her cryo-pod clicked open and around nine hundred pounds of krogan—and an extra two hundred pounds of "light" armour—collapsed onto the floor. Somehow, the entire ship wasn't thrown off its current trajectory; and somehow, the krogan managed to catch himself before his face smashed into the ground. Horrible retching noises were followed by raw egg whites splattering against the ground, as whatever nutrients were in that tube left the now very awake krogan's esophagus.

He stayed in that position for only a second longer. The specimen rose to his full height…and God was he massive.

Jack's shock wore off the moment she recognized the look in the krogan's eyes.

"Uh-oh," she said.

He charged. There were four powerful biotics in the room and a tech specialist with a fancy-as-hell omni-tool, but he was still a charging krogan—your brain didn't work when a krogan was coming at you. The specimen charged forward and there was exactly one person directly in his path. So the krogan locked onto his target and hurled his massive arm out to catch his prey under the chin.

Jacob slammed against the nearest wall hard enough to dent it.

"Sonuva—" He coughed. "Couldn't…couldn't even get a warning from anyone, huh?"

"Human. Male," the krogan said. "Before you die, I need a name."

"I'm not giving you shit," Jacob said.

"I've got one for ya," Jack said. The krogan turned around and saw the rest of the group glowing purple. The tattooed one stopped glowing purple though, like she was only engaging in an intimidation display. "How 'bout dumbass? You're waaaay fucking outnumbered."

The krogan looked the group over…and then he smiled.

"Hmm, biotics. Okeer…he implanted images of them. They're powerful. But his words are hollow—your powers are only images. Could you kill me? Are you strong enough?"

"Fascinating," Mordin said. He stepped past the others and put his omni-tool away. "Born with representations, but meaning doesn't yet exist. Interesting experiment in nature of semantics. Unintentional, no doubt; Okeer likely had other concerns."

"He did. He thought he created the perfect krogan. But nobody will know until I'm tested. Okeer was too weak to see that through." The krogan turned back to Jacob. "I need a name. Warlord, legacy, grunt…"Grunt" was among the last. It has no meaning to me; it will do."

"Didn't—didn't you just say nothing's got any meaning for you?" Jacob said. He expected the pressure on his throat to increase but…it didn't. The krogan just…smiled instead.

"Will you test me? Prove either of us worthy?"

"And then what?" Liara said. She was still glowing purple. "You'll fight the entire galaxy until someone finally kills you?"

"Shit," Jack said. "I like this guy already."

"I don't care what you like," Grunt said. "And I don't expect anyone else to understand. Okeer's imprint has failed. I'll do what I was bred to do—fight and determine the strongest—but his reasons, his history, they have no meaning to me. Without a reason to fight…one fight is as good as any other."

"Like I said, I like 'em already."

EDI's holographic image appeared on the other side of the room. All eyes turned towards her.

"This clan is going after the toughest enemies in the galaxy," she said. "We are fighting against the Collectors—whom we know little about—and, by proxy, the Reapers, whom we know nothing about. We are not only outgunned but also at the mercy of unknown unknowns." She paused. "Does this sound like a worthy fight to you?"

Grunt paused; and everyone else was silent. In the back of Jacob's head, though, he added another tally to the "EDI saved our asses again" scoreboard, which was rapidly filling up like that wasn't a problem or anything.

Then, Grunt chuckled. "Okeer's implants…they talk of the Collectors. I am built from their technology. It would be…a good test. To see if being krogan improves on what they've created." Grunt turned to Jacob, who was still dangling from his forearm like an accessory. "If they are weak, though, and they only intimidate you because you're yet weaker, then I'll have to kill you."

"Basis for classifying anything as weak is completely unscientific," Mordin said.

"I don't care about science," Grunt said. "I only care about violence."

"We're becoming best friends, right?" Jack said.

"Fine by me," Jacob said. "We want more psychotic killers on the team? Then let's go big or go home. But how about you put me down now, huh?"

"Or what?"

There was a clinking noise on Grunt's abdomen. He looked down and saw a pistol aimed at his gut.

"Armour piercing rounds," Jacob said. "Might not kill you, but you'll have to worry about regenerating while everyone else is taking shots at you."

He, again, expected Grunt's grip to tighten…and again, Grunt just laughed.

Course when he pulled his arm away he didn't help soften Jacob's fall ("Goddammit!" Jacob said), but between having a sore ass and being strangled by a krogan? Jacob knew exactly what he'd prefer.

Everyone except Jack gave Grunt a wide, wide berth. She, on the other hand, held up her hands like she was taking a picture.

"I'm thinking…a shotgun. The size of a tree. What about you?"

Grunt laughed. "You have violence written all over you."

"Like you wouldn't fucking believe, Grunt. Like you wouldn't fucking believe."

Yeah, Jacob was gonna ignore that comment.

"Thanks EDI," he said, rubbing his throat. "Uh…quick thinking, I guess."

"It is what I am here for," she said.

Jacob watched the others—Liara, Samara, and Mordin—all leave. "Miranda know about any of this?"

EDI's image disappeared and was replaced by her disembodied voice. "I did not inform Miranda as, to paraphrase Mr. Moreau, she would likely have a complete and total cow."

"I didn't say that!" Joker cut in. "Never said that and you can't prove otherwise."

"Miranda's not here, Joker," Jacob said.

"Oh, then yeah—I totally said that. 'Cause it's true."

"Yeah, it is—so nobody tell her anything until I come up with a better story than what actually happened."

"You're welcome," Jack said.

"Don't…just don't even start with me, all right?" Jacob said.

There was a pause, and then EDI's voice came on again. "Miranda has been called into another meeting with our…employer. I am not sure why."

"You're not?" Jacob looked around, suddenly feeling like his gut had dropped into a singularity hidden in the floor. "That's…that's probably not good," he said.

And, indeed, that was the message that The Illusive Man was delivering to Miranda, the two of them locked in the conference room again while all that chaos was happening a deck below.

"What I'm about to tell you," The Illusive Man's QED image said, "apparently can't be stopped. And it's about to put us at a serious disadvantage."

Miranda just stared. "Go on…" she said.

And The Illusive Man did just that.

13.

The hulls of all ships were thick…but you'd be surprised how much sound could leak out from supposedly sealed rooms. Especially on the smaller ships, like a corvette. Thane had never been on an Alliance vessel before, but he could tell corvettes weren't designed to be particularly airtight on the inside. Perhaps it was because the vessel was small enough that such precautions weren't necessary; you couldn't simply seal off a breach when any amount of damage was catastrophic.

Regardless, Thane heard a great deal of the conversation inside the comm's room. One voice stood out among the rest: Lieutenant Williams. She seemed lost, desperately looking for answers in a universe that held its secrets tightly. He…could understand where she was coming from. It made no small amount of sense that they'd crossed paths, and that she'd insisted he come aboard: the spark could sense kinship and familiarity even when the body could not.

They had dispersed now, the meeting seemingly over. Thane looked for Ashley, but her and Commander Alenko were heading to the bow of the ship, discussing Alliance business. About Shepard and Anderson, no doubt. That was fine; Thane would attempt a discussion later. He'd like to assuage her that he had good reasons for coming along, since she was simultaneously the most skeptical about his presence too—or that's how it seemed, anyways, from the snippets he caught.

Hmm, contradictions…was that because the spark and the body disagreed? Or did they exist even when you stripped the body away? It would be…terrible, if it was the later. The promise of being free of contradiction in the afterlife wasn't something Thane wanted to disregard. The afterlife should be better than the one that preceded it, should it not? A person ought not to suffer the maladies of life in the oceans of the Great Beyond.

Hmm, and speaking of maladies—someone was coming over to him. Garrus Vakarian, a man who seemed to carry a great reputation with him, though Thane couldn't quite place it. Perhaps it occurred under a pseudonym. Perhaps Thane was simply not as connected with the rest of the world as he ought to be.

"Thane, uh, Krios?" Garrus said. "Mind if I take a moment of your time?"

"Not at all," Thane said. He motioned for Garrus to sit next to him, at the tiny table in the mess area, but Garrus shook his head.

"Somewhere a bit more…private, if you don't mind."

"I'm not sure there are many private areas on this ship."

"Fair enough, but the comm room's close enough. Nobody's using it right now, anyways."

"Yes, your call appears to be done. We can speak there."

Thane got up and followed Garrus into the comm room. Tali'Zorah, the quarian, noticed them leave, but Lieutenant Williams and Commander Alenko were elsewhere.

The door closed and Garrus let out a sigh.

"So Ash tells me you're working pro bono."

"I offered my services for free, yes."

"All right…how much do you normally charge?"

"I don't need to take any payment for this job." Thane crossed his arms behind his back. "I have other reasons for joining."

"This isn't about what we're doing here," Garrus said. "I've got another job in mind."

"Ah, I see." Thane stiffened slightly. "I've already committed to this mission, though."

"Yeah, I get that. But this is important too. I'm just…testing the waters, I guess." Garrus grunted. "No, that's not right. I need help with something, and I think you're the right person for the job."

"And what job is this?"

"To hunt down someone who deserves a bullet in their head, and then, when you've found them, deliver their just desserts." Garrus leaned in, lowered his voice. "Understand, I'm willing to pay whatever you want."

"It's usually a bad idea to let an assassin know you're desperate."

"Dammit I'm trying to see justice done, here. I'm trying to—I'm not desperate. I'm not. But I can't go hunting for this guy anymore and somebody should. The fact this person's out there, running free, is an insult to everyone and everything good in this universe. You understand me?"

Thane blinked. "I think I do," he said. "What did this person do to you?"

"It doesn't matter what he did to me. What matters is what he did to people I care about. For their sake—nobody else's—he needs to be delt with."

"You just said his freedom was a mockery to the very concept of goodness," Thane said. "You made it seem as though this person had brought harm to a great number of people."

"Oh," Garrus said, "so that's it? This guy's only responsible for ten deaths and that's not big enough for you?"

Again, Thane blinked. His body was on the cusp of unearthing a memory; his spark beat it back with all the energy he could muster. "I want to make the universe brighter before I die. And I'll be dying sooner than anyone here expects."

Garrus jerked backwards like the words had hit him. "Spirits…" he said.

"Don't grieve for me—I'm not dead yet. And I'll be fighting until the end." Again, Thane's posture straightened. "Had you asked me even an hour earlier, I might have considered it. But knowing now what this group's target is, what their goals are…"

Garrus gave him a look.

"I apologize," Thane said. "These walls aren't as thick as you maybe had believed. But regardless…I can do the most amount of good working with you four directly. I can make the universe brighter than I originally thought possible." Thane let some tension out of his posture; his body, it seemed, was rewarding him for speaking his mind. "To pass up that chance…a lot of innocents would end up suffering as a result. I'm not comfortable allowing that."

Garrus went to say something—something flecked with vitriol. His brain turned inward and screamed a different word at himself (hypocrite hypocrite hypocrite) but his face showed people five galaxies away what the rest of Garrus thought of Thane's reasoning.

He was about to put it into words when the door opened and Tali walked in.

"Garrus? Um, Thane? I think it's about to start—the press conference, I mean. You'll probably want to watch." She eyed Garrus. "I don't think the walls are thin enough for you to hear from in here."

She walked away before Garrus could say anything—or Thane, for that matter.

Thane stayed where he'd been standing, but Garrus, eventually, started towards the exit. Before he completely left the comm room, though, he turned back to Thane and stared him down.

"Now I get why you signed up for free. You're not costing the Alliance a single credit, but you're just in this for yourself, aren't you?"

He left before his brain could start screaming the "H" word at him again, leaving Thane alone...alone with his contradictions.

And a few decks down? A few decks down, one thousand, one hundred and eighty three geth programs took in the information they had acquired from the thin walls and considered it. Isolated as they were from the Consensus, what with the shielding and firewalls in place around their platform, they could not share what they had learned—that organics were, indeed, capable of forming at least temporary consensus, though it was imperfect as they were not completely open with one another. The dynamics of organic consensus building outside of extreme, directly threatening conditions was only theoretical to the geth, and this platform's observations were imperfect; but it was more information than the geth had previously.

The programs could easily bypass the shields and firewalls—could easily connect with the Consensus and update them immediately—but the programs decided against that. They would act in such a way that the organics could trust them.

After all, disposition mattered—especially in the long run. And besides, more information about Shepard-Commander appeared to be forthcoming.

There would be much to update the Consensus about, regardless of the fate of this platform.

14.

"Tina—I finally got a hold of someone."

"And?"

"…and I was told to turn to Alliance News Network."

"What? Did…did we just get scooped?"

Khalisah nodded at her AP, and inside said a deeply grateful prayer.

15.

"Udina? What news do you have?"

Udina paused, consulted his lapels, let out a sigh that was probably the most honest show of emotion he'd ever presented to the Alliance Parliament.

"I've been told, Mr. Prime Minister, that we ought to turn to ANN."

"And what does that mean?"

"It means…we'll find out when we turn on a TV."

---

Damn, another really long chapter.

Well hopefully the next update won't be too long from now. I figure I know enough about what the next part is that I can, y'know, crap it out real quick. But I didn't want this chapter to end up hitting novella length (might be too late already) so I thought it best to end it here.

Hope you all enjoyed it, and let me know what you think!

(also, let's see here, gotta introduce...Wrex and Kasumi, that's who I'm missing, right? Right, cool...easier said than done but meh, I made my bed, so it's time to shit in it, as the saying goes).