…
"Uh, Command? I've got a problem here! Some cowboy clipped me on the way in and thrusters are at 50% and dropping."
(Pvt. Bitterman)
…
Serenity Valley, October 13th, 8:20 PM, 2184
…
Dan and I sat outside on the roof of Mara and I's house, knocking back some beer and listening to the Easy Rider soundtrack in the yearly tradition we had created. October 13th marked the day Dan and I had ended up over one hundred and fifty years into the future after the incident at Area 51. Sitting in our chairs and staring up into the sky, it was still hard to believe it had happened.
The hard fact to swallow there was that it had only been four years. In my mind, if felt like it had been decades since we ended up here. We've done so much, seen so much, and have experienced more than a lifetime's worth of hardship and pain. Thinking about it all at one time was enough to make you feel sick to the stomach.
And this was coming from someone with a real strong stomach.
"You know… there are s-still mornings where I wake up and won…wonder if I'm dreaming all of this." Dan mused, swishing his half empty beer bottle around as we watched the mist roll off of the mountain tops in the distance before looking back to the stars. "You ever think that?"
"Mm hm." I answered as I went about the task of gulping down more of my foamy drink. "Tell me, are you ever going to tell me what your Dad used to do? Even all these years later, the thought still bothers me."
Dan allowed himself to laugh out loud, rubbing his stomach for a moment before looking back at me.
"Well, I suppose it doesn't r-really matter anymore now, does it?" He agreed, taking another swig of his beer before going on. "Well, you already kn…know he was in the U.S. military. Fought in the Gulf War and all t-that stuff. After the war, he joined a p-private military firm which had close ties to the CIA."
"Your dad was involved with the CIA?" I blurted out, surprised by the admittance.
"Not directly, no." He shook in denial, looking up at the sky. "My dad helped act as an in…intermediary between the civilian sector and the military. He worked various disposal jobs for the m-most part, but was… also involved in a lot of engineering pro…projects, mostly involving satellites."
"Geez, that's a hell of a thing." I exclaimed, opening up a new beer bottle.
"He loved his country." Dan finished, staring up into space before giving a small military salute.
"You know what I miss the most about home?" I replied before taking in a deep sigh.
"What's that?" He asked, looking over at me.
"I miss our old stars." I said, tilting my head at I memorized the position of every singular speck of light in the sky. "I miss being able to see Orion and his big old belt."
"Orion was your f-favorite constellation?" Dan quipped up, sounding mildly surprised.
"That, and he was one of the easiest ones to spot in the sky." I joked, as both of us let out small chuckles.
We continued to stare up at the stars for a minute or so before Dan spoke up again, but much more softly than before.
"Do you ever wonder if what happened that day was r-really an accident?" He asked, sending a chill through my spine as my body froze.
All my thoughts and questions rolled back in an instant, taxing my mental processes to the extreme in a matter of microseconds. Theories, calculations, and statistics were all thrown together as I tried to piece together more explanations, but still with little avail.
"The thought had crossed my mind." I replied sheepishly, only realizing as I spoke that I had been holding my breath in since his line of questioning came up. "I've run the numbers countless times over the years, but I always end up with the same conclusion in my head."
"And that conclusion is…?" Dan urged, pausing for a response.
"It is a near mathematical impossibility that out of all the places we could have ended up, it would have been inside a habitable space station millions of miles from home." I answered, allowing myself to pause for breath before going on. "Do you know what those odds are? They're off the charts, completely unworkable numbers. In my opinion, if it wasn't somehow deliberate, it was either an act of God or one of the biggest coincidences in all of science."
Dan squared his view on me, dwelling on my words for the longest time before speaking back up.
"If it really were del…deliberate, then what exact purpose did it really serve in the end? Sending u-us a few hundred years into the future?" Dan questioned, suddenly sounding a little heated. "And never mind why, but how? How could someone possibly have coordinates that precise when we never even knew it existed until over a hundred years later?"
"I don't know." I replied, shaking my head slightly as I started to become overwhelmed again. "All I know is that there's more to this than meets the eye."
"That's an understatement." Dan quipped, sounding tired as he took another sip of his beer and stared back up at the starry sky.
I could only hope that these questions could be answered in the future, because we were in no shape to answer them. Not now, and possibly never.
The idea that there was some sort of manipulation going on really ground my gears.
…
CASTLE Base, October 14th, 12:31 PM, 2184
…
I walked slowly through Sublevel 3 with a slight bounce to my step as I walked. I was going to check up on Richard and Powell and see what kind of progress they had made on the Immuno-Booster implant, and was bringing my daughter with me since it was my turn today to watch her.
She looked up at me as I gently carried her, causing me to grin like crazy. She was such a cute little spud, never failing to make me smile in joy as she reached for my face and cooed.
I walked into Richard's lab space, immediately seeing that one of his clean rooms were currently occupied. He was inside with one of his volunteers, either inserting an implant or doing a checkup. Whichever one it was; it was certainly an involved process. Powell was at one of the main consoles inside of the lab, working on something until he spotted me.
"Hello, Dr. Michaels." He greeted warmly, looking me over and spotting Elle cradled in my one arm. "I see you brought the little one today."
"Yep, she's a handful, but makes up for it in sheer cuteness." I replied, walking up to him. "Would you like to hold her for a bit? I know it's your first time seeing her in person."
Powell's eye aperture widened in mild surprise before he actually replied to my offer.
"Are you sure, doctor?" He asked with concern in his voice. "There exist the possibility that I might scare her."
"Well, there's no way to know until you try." I shrugged, carefully handing her to Powell.
Powell stared silently at her with his single eye as she tilted her head slightly in curiosity.
"Um… greetings little one. I am Powell, one of your father's colleagues." He said, sounding surprisingly nervous, an emotion I had never seen him exert before.
She stared at him in silence a few seconds longer before smiling and reaching up at his head with both hands. She squealed in sudden excitement, finding interest in him.
"Well well, would you look at that!" I remarked, arms crossed and with a big smile. "She likes you!"
"I was not expecting this outcome." He replied in a surprised tone, moving her slightly closer to his face so she could touch it. She playfully tapped his head with her little hands, looking quite entertained.
"Kids love big robots." I joked, leaning against the wall as I held back the urge to gush over her.
"While I am technically a synthetic mobile platform, that colloquialism is sufficient." He agreed, still staring at Elle as she cooed softly.
I looked back over at the clean room while Powell entertained her, chancing a look at the quarian volunteer inside the room with Richard who was himself wearing a clean suit.
It hadn't been the first time I had seen a quarian without their full suit before, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. All quarians were hairless, which was a given considering their physiology, and had pale, ghostly looking skin that browned around the mouth and eye sockets. Their eyes were mostly black with a bioluminesant iris and pupil, a holdover from the days when ancient quarians used to be night hunters. Many quarians had basic levels of cybernetics, mostly having to do with suit interaction. It was easy to spot; it was usually implanted around the base of the neck.
It appeared that this guy was receiving one of the new suits along with his implantation. The new suits that Richard and Powell had created were interesting in design. They were vaguely military in style, having a greater emphasis on protection and utility than older ones, yet still maintained the distinct style despite of this. It was quite striking, even before each wearer had made their personal touches.
Soundlessly, the quarian secured his new suit and put his helmet back on before going through the closet-sized airlock. He nodded to me and Powell as he left the lab without a word. Richard went through the same airlock moments later, pulling the helmet off of his suit and taking a deep breath as visible beads of sweat rolled down his face.
"Oh, hello Sean." He greeted after noticing me, walking slowly over to his desk and taking a deep gulp from a water bottle.
"I assume everything is above board?" I scrutinized with crossed arms, giving him a square look. "Your last report seemed kind of vague."
"Yeah, that last one was admittedly a bit of a rush job." He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You want me to go through all the latest test results now?"
"It would help "ease my conscious", so to speak." I agreed as he and I walked over to the back of the lab where he kept his computer.
"Right, so two days ago I recently finished my third round of observations." He began, looking between me and the screen. "As far as I can tell, my implants have been performing beautifully. Out of all nineteen volunteers who signed up for my project, none have suffered any rejections and only one has had any major side effects."
"Those being?" I asked, one eyebrow cocked upwards in suspicion. He quickly picked up a nearby printout, squinting before reading directly from it.
"Subject #12, Hala'Krisk vas Narwhal, suffered a minor allergic reaction from one of the inoculations she received eleven hours after treatment." He explained, his artificial eye rotating as he focused on the text. "This resulted in swelling, specifically around the eyes. After giving her a standard Hydrocortisone shot, the swelling went down and she's been fine since."
"That's really the only thing that's happened?" I remarked, obvious doubt in my voice.
"You asked for the detailed results. Those are it." He stated matter-of-factly, carefully inserting the paper into a seemingly random pile. "Once the inoculation testing is finished, I'm going to move on to prosthetics."
"That's a bit of a leap, don't you think?" I scrutinized, letting out a huff of air as I forced my brain to log the entire conversation.
"Not at all, I have a perfectly valid example right here." He dismissed, holding up the grayish amalgamation of artificial muscle fibers that was his replacement arm.
"Good point." I conceded, nodding as he pulled his sleeve back down.
"Besides, the rough statistic regarding amputees in the Fleet is…" He paused, gazing up at the ceiling and recalling the information before looking back at me. "For every twenty-seven to twenty-eight quarians in the Fleet there are one or more missing limbs. These folks will be able to do so much more if their full functionality is returned to them."
He wasn't wrong in that regard. Due to the near constant, hazardous maintenance work that had to be done to keep the ships in the Fleet, especially the older ones, functioning, there was more than a fair share of stories where someone got their arm sliced off in a piece of heavy machinery, someone's foot got caught in an airlock door, exc. Those who didn't die from blood loss or exposure felt they were now weak links in their respective crews.
"Right then. Remember to include all relevant data in your subsequent reports." I ordered, pointing at his research papers. "I don't have to remind you how particular the Admirals are regarding proper documentation."
"Yeah, I get that a lot." He finished as we walked back into the main part of his lab. "Hey, I didn't know you brought the kid."
"Looks like Elle has a big robot friend." I joked, putting one of my fists on my hip as I watched her try and "climb" Powell's chest from his lap.
"She is properly motivated." He replied, handing her back to me as she looked saddened.
"Hey, seeing her put even the smallest amount of effort into anything is good for the future." I ended off, nodding to both of them as I walked out of the lab.
I stopped to stare at her once more, watching her yawn before another smile crossed my face. My senses were alerted to the sudden sound of someone running down the main corridor, causing me to flip around to see it was Greg.
"Sean!" He shouted out with a raised hand as if he wanted me to hold an elevator for him. "There you are!"
"What's wrong?" I inquired as he stopped in front of me, panting.
"Something big has just come up. Can we talk in your office?" He asked quickly, gesturing with his thumb towards the elevators.
I nodded in silent agreement, making our way up to Sublevel 1 after two minutes and entering my office. I carefully placed Elle inside the crib I had brought here before sitting down behind my desk.
"Alright, so what's happening?" I inquired, mildly annoyed but still open to what it was he had to say to me. "Does it involve Minuteman Station?"
"Yes, it does actually." He confirmed quickly, picking up on the tone of my voice. "The attack by the two flotillas went great today, and they managed to take the station in one piece. They didn't even see us coming."
"Not to sound rude, but I am already well aware of this." I stated, trying to move past the formalities. "Get to the point."
Greg paused for a few second to gather his thoughts before going on, making sure to calm his breathing.
"They're still clearing the station, and due to the size of it the operation will take a while." He started again, slower this time. "We've come across some kind of odd… operation going on inside of the station. Lots of experimental equipment, unsecured data files, and even more."
"I'm guessing no one else has had a good look at yet?" I guessed, leaning back slightly farther in my chair.
"Exactly." He confirmed, nodding his head vigorously. "We're not really sure what it is we've found here, but whatever it is it looks not only expensive, but important. Hackett wanted me to come to you with this information before doing anything else."
"Why?" I asked, now even more confused.
"He wants you and your team to come to the station and investigate this specific section of the station." He explained, holding out both hands. "He thinks you guys are better suited for finding out exactly what they were doing. The rest of the station is already beginning to crawl with Alliance R&D, and despite how much they want it Hackett is saving it for you."
I leaned back in my chair, immersed in thought as I pondered the entire situation in my head. I rocked slightly back and forth, tugging on my chin hairs as I balanced pros and cons.
"Alright, I'll do it." I agreed, standing up and shaking Greg's hand. "Forward any extra info to my omni-tool while I get my team together."
"Sure thing." He quickly agreed, nodding to me as he walked out of my office.
As my office went silent, I looked at Elle in her crib, stuck in my thoughts once again.
I couldn't help but feel I had suddenly opened up a whole new can of worms. I could only pray we were up to the task of handling whatever came up next.
…
MSV Explorer, October 14th, 4:10 PM, 2184
…
I rhythmically tapped the arm of my Captain's chair as we made our final jump into the system, resisting the lifelong urge to bite my fingernails. The space in front of us rolled into view, revealing a rather large station with a distant nebula behind it. The entire sector was filled with Coalition vessels, something I had yet to see in person until now. It was admittedly surreal seeing the shiny, uniform Alliance ships working alongside the seemingly random assortment of Migrant Fleet vessels. There was a metaphor here somewhere, but I wasn't concentrating hard enough to find it at the given time.
The space around the station was littered with blasted out hulks, not nearly as many as above Reach, but enough to know there had been a serious scuffle. The station, in contrast, looked like it had taken little to no damage in the fight. The only evidence that I could see were a few scorch marks where point-defense turrets and GUARDAN arrays once sat.
As Dimitri submitted our access codes for IFF verification, I looked around the bridge at everyone who was here. Dan was at his usual station, doing his best to stay calm. I knew what was going through his mind at the current moment, but didn't want to dwell on it. Sira sat solemnly, going through the motions with the most neutral expression she could muster. She had been the hardest one to convince to come for this trip.
Richard sat quietly in the back, looking through his datapad as he silently suppressed his agoraphobia. He had been another hard sell, but when I mentioned advanced medical equipment, he quickly changed his mind. Powell had kindly elected to stay behind and watch Elle for me and Mara, something we were both very grateful for.
Mara stared out the bridge windows from the aux console, focused solely on Minuteman Station. She had her hair tied in a neat bun, something that I hadn't seen for a while. I always saw it as a way for her to say "let's get down to buissness" whenever she did. Greg had come along too, dressed in a standard combat hard suit like all the rest of us.
"Sir, Fleet Actual has granted us permission to dock." Lenlo announced from the communications console, leaning back to look directly at me.
"Good." I nodded, gripping both armrests tightly. "Take us in, and make sure kinetic barriers are double front. There's a lot of debris out there."
The bridge became silent once more as we creeped our way closer to the station. I was only now realizing how big it really was. It was easily over a mile long in its longest section, partially resembling a gun or a saber of some sort. It wasn't a defined shape, looking more like an amalgamation similar to Aldrin Station.
The sheer thought of it brought a shiver to my spine.
We pulled into a large docking area, mostly empty with the exception of three cruisers, two Alliance and one Quarian. We connected to the umbilical with a heavy *thunk*, coming to a complete stop once the magnetic clamps made contact.
"Alright, make sure you have everything before we go in." I encouraged, hefting my rucksack as I looked back over at Lenlo. "As usual Lenlo, you're in charge until we get back."
"Yes sir!" He quickly agreed, giving me a salute before the airlock closed with all of us inside.
"This does not feel right." Dimitri commented with narrowed eyes, like an animal on the hunt as mist filled the chamber. "I feel like we should not be here."
"I agree. If it weren't for the higher-ups, I would not have gone at all." Sira remarked, sounding none too pleased as she looked at me.
"We go in, investigate our section, and get out. It's as simple as that." I reassured, forcing myself to breath normally before the airlock opened, revealing two Alliance marines and one of the Migrant Fleet badasses in a Gen IV exo.
"Welcome aboard sir." One of the Alliance marines greeted, offering me a handshake which I quickly accepted. "Follow us, we'll guide you to your destination."
"Right then." I agreed with a quick nod as we began walking.
It was eerily quiet inside of the station as we walked. There were obvious signs of fighting all around us, though the bodies from the fighting had already been moved into rows for identification and processing, covered in brown tarps. Bullet holes from gunfire and scorch marks from plasma rifles could be periodically seen, along with splashes of blood on the floors and walls.
Despite how well the coalition had done in space, it was apparent that they had enough time to muster up their internal defenses. Still, it didn't really help them in the end. Our forces were equipped with much better technology. We crossed over into another section of the station, an obvious fact due to the massive clamps and airlock that could be seen holding everything together.
"Here you go, sir." The marine finished, all three of them stacking up on one door that had been cut through. "Admiral Hackett is waiting for you inside."
I nodded in confirmation, climbing through the hole into the bright lights of the room. It was immediately apparent what it was that Hackett was so curious about. The entire room was brimming with advanced equipment that I couldn't even identify. It was obvious it was built with a specific purpose, though what it was I had no idea.
"Oh wow…" Richard immediately said, looking like a kid in a candy shop based on the look in his eye. "I've never seen anything like this before."
"You'll get the chance to figure out what it is, Rich." Greg remarked, snapping is attention back to the group. "Once we're finished talking to Hackett you'll have free reign."
On the other side of the chamber was Hackett, who looked as if he hadn't even noticed us. He was facing away from us, staring at a lone cryopod humming away in the corner.
"Sir?" I asked, trying to get his attention as he kept his eyes glued on the pod.
"This man single-handedly saved us from near annihilation." Hackett said without breaking his line of sight, still focused on the frosted glass. "Seeing him like this is not easy."
Without a word, I stood next to Hackett, staring into the cryopod alongside him. Inside held the broken, battered body of Commander Shepard. Seeing him now, he looked more like a mass of scars and broken flesh than the man who's face had previously appeared on every Alliance recruitment poster at one point.
"What happened to him?" I inquired, this time in as soft as a tone as I could muster.
"While on a Council assignment to seek out and destroy any remaining Geth outposts in the Omega Nebula, the Normandy was attacked by an unknown ship and subsequently destroyed." He explained, still standing stiff as he stared at the remains of the man. "Twenty-one of the ship's crewmembers were killed, and Shepard went missing shortly after rescuing the ship's pilot. I suppose that number is now twenty-two."
Hackett slowly took off his hat, placing it over his heart. A gesture of great respect.
"I'm sorry, sir. I had no idea." I apologized as he broke his line of sight to make direct contact with me.
"Son, I want you and your friends here to find out just what the hell they were doing to him." He suddenly said in a much different tone, looking as if he was holding in barely contained anger. "I want everything, all relevant information, all the data you can possibly muster. Once you've done this, I'll see what I can do about giving Shepard a proper burial."
I nodded silently, giving him one of the firmest handshakes I could recall from memory before turning back to my team who all looked equally concerned.
"You heard the man, Let's get to work." I ordered, unslinging my rucksack and pulling out my portable console.
…
Minuteman Station, October 14th, 6:08 PM, 2184
…
Two hours later, and I was still just as confused as I had been when we first arrived. Most, if not all of this technology was medical in nature, which I was not particularly well versed in and limited how much I could really help with. Same went for Dan and Dimitri. We were all very talented engineers, but near-clueless when it came to other specific fields.
The exact opposite could be said for Sira, Mara and Richard, specifically Richard. All three were incredibly elated, looking more like kids in a candy shop that scientists. Richard still wasn't quite sure exactly what we were dealing with here, but he believed it had something to do with cybernetics or nanotechnology. Either one could be a potential boon to his ongoing research.
Dimitri, Dan and I focused mostly on collecting and cataloguing all the data stored in the computer systems, along with any paper notes while the other three made sense of all of the assets around us. I was busy trying to unlock one of the terminals, a painstaking process.
"Sons of bitches… I'm not good at this kind of shit." I exclaimed under my breath, restarting the spiking process for the eleventh time over the last half an hour. It buzzed for a few minutes as I attempted to break the codes, locking out on me again.
I leaned back against the wall, using all my self-control to keep myself from chucking my laptop across the room. This was a pain in the ass.
"Sean!" Dan yelled from the other side of the room. "You should c-come see this!"
Knowing Dan, it must have been important if he was raising his voice.
"I'm coming." I agreed, getting up off of the ground and walking over to him. He was huddled over one of the larger consoles, armor collar unclasped as moisture could be seen on his forehead.
"I think I may have fi-finally discovered what they were d-doing here." He said with what I swore was a twinkle in his eye. "Listen to this."
He clicked on one of several audio logs recorded on the system, bringing up a new window.
"Log 119: September 27th, 2184. The project is proceeding on schedule. The rebuilding of major organs is slow due to degradation, but the introduction of the reconstructive nanomachines have mitigated this problem. Cloned replacements for the left lung and liver should be ready by the end of the month, but until then we have to rely on our equipment to keep the bodily fluids circulating properly." A woman's voice explained, pausing before going on. "All in all, we've exceeded all expectations. I've forwarded our current data to the Illusive Man, and will continue these logs once there is more to report. Lawson out."
Dan and I stood there in silence for a few moments, thinking about what we had just heard.
"Play the newest one." I ordered, as he nodded and clicked on the one from three days ago.
"Log 126: October 11th, 2184. Reconstruction of spinal column is nearly complete, though the subject's nerves will need much more work before they can reliably send and receive signals. Bio-synthetic fusion is proceeding well with a near ninety-nine percent acceptance rate. Primary fusion should be completed before the end of the year, and secondary fusion could be done as soon as April." The recording went on, causing my eyes to widen as the puzzle pieces began to click together in my head. "Repairs on the brain, specifically the parietal lobe, temporal lobe, and cerebellum are slow, though showing gradual signs of improvement. My suggestion to install a control chip at the base of the spinal cord was denied by the Illusive Man. It's very clear by this point he wants Commander Shepard back in the same state he was before the Collector attack. I've left Wilson in charge while I attend to another matter on the station, and will finish this log at another time. Lawson out."
The recording cut out there as my mind suddenly began running faster than a McLaren F1. All of this around us immediately made sense, yet I still couldn't believe it.
Cerberus was trying to bring Commander Shepard back to life.
Saying it in my own head, it felt more like some weird subversion of Frankenstein. It seemed so absurd. All of this advanced, space-aged equipment and an entire space station wing… they did all of this for one man? Was there some kind of ulterior motive behind this, or did Cerberus see something in Shepard that I didn't?
"Everyone, gather around! I'm calling this in!" I shouted out, nabbing their attention as I walked into the center of the room. I opened my omni-tool, calling Hackett who was busy running interference between the Captains of the Alliance and Migrant Fleet ships.
"Have you discovered something, son?" Hackett asked immediately after accepting my call.
"Sir, based on several logs one of my colleagues found and the nature of the equipment here, I believe Cerberus was attempting to bring Shepard back to life." I said in as serious of a tone as I possibly could, resulting in a good five seconds of silence from Hackett's end.
"Attempting to bring him back to life?" Hackett repeated back to me, sounding very understandably confused. "Are you sure, Michaels? That sounds like a stretch if I've ever heard one."
"I am one-hundred percent sure, sir." I reassured, filling the room with an uncomfortable silence that lasted for what felt like a century.
"Do you actually think they were on to something?" Hackett prodded further, surprising me as Richard walked up with a raised finger. Knowing he wanted to speak, I nodded in confirmation.
"Sir, if I may… this is single-handedly the most advanced medical technology I've ever seen." He supported, gesturing with his hands despite the fact that it wasn't a vidcall. "Nano-breeders, bone grafters, protein synthesizers… with all of this, I can promise you one-hundred percent it is possible to bring him back."
Richard's assessment shocked everyone in the room, even me. Despite all the evidence around us, hearing him not only state it as a fact and promise a result was almost chilling. Out of everyone, Sira looked the most blown away. Her face had actually shifted to a lighter shade of blue.
"Michaels?" Hackett asked, voice both gruff and soft at the same time.
"Yes sir?" I replied, anticipating whatever was coming next.
"Do you think you and your team could finish their work? Actually bring the man back from the dead?" He inquired, same tone as before. "He could very well be our only chance to stop the Reapers."
I paused, looking hard at each and every one of the faces around me. There was deep contemplation on everyone's faces as we mulled over this heavily moral decision. Even if it was truly possible to bring Shepard back to life, would it be the right thing?
But then again, Hackett was completely right. If it hadn't been for Shepard, we could all be dead or gridlocked into an unbeatable war. The things he did and didn't get to do… it made be believe that he deserved another chance. Another chance to fight against forces that would seek to do us harm.
Slowly, everyone began to give me nods as they all agreed to Hackett's inquiry. I slowly leaned into my omni-tool, mentally preparing myself.
"I think we can give it our best, sir." I agreed in an uplifted voice, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.
"I trust you and your team can get the job done, Michaels." Hackett confirmed in a slightly more tired tone. "I'll begin going over all the details with the Admiralty Board later. Until then, I want you and your team to pick up what you have and return to your ship."
"Yes sir." I finished as the line went dead, filling the room once more with silence.
None of us had any words to describe what this all meant. Then again, silence was its own form of commentary.
One thing was for sure, though. We were going to bring a man back from the dead.
…
A/N: Things just keep getting more complicated for Sean and his friends. The future may seem uncertain for some, but for others it's simply a new beginning. What will happen next? Find out next time!
This time I decide to address some reviews here at the end of the chapter. I like addressing any and all questions or criticisms you all have of my story, and this will hopefully be my way of showing my appreciation. Every bit of constructive criticism makes the story better!
griezz: While I understand your thought process behind this, if I made every bit of recovered Cerberus tech part of some sort of trap, the story would quickly become bland and predictable. As a prototype, it seemed pretty obvious that it would still be filled with information. That data was still needed for developing the IFV.
BJ Hanssen: Cronos Station is different from Minuteman Station. The only time we see Minuteman Station is briefly in the beginning of ME2, being where the SR2 was built. Going after a major Cerberus facility is a big task with lots of risks involved. Luckily, the coalition forces are pretty well equipped.
Maersikai: I'm sorry if you feel like Cerberus has too big of a place in the fic. The simple fact is that Cerberus is a major factor behind a lot of what happens in the story, some of which still has yet to be fully explained. Please try to leave more positive feedback.
Sajuuk: I like how you've coined my team as the "geek team", that gave me a good chuckle. In any case, I can't guarantee anything you've asked for. The tech everyone uses will progress at a normal pace along with the story.
Pietersielie: I don't believe Ackbar will be appearing, but I's always happy to see another Star Wars fan!
Feb 1st Guest: In the universe of Murphy's Law, Mass Effect IS the actual future of the world. There is no game called Mass Effect in my character's story.
I'd love to read any reviews, I'm always up for suggestions or constructive criticism. Stay tuned!