Chapter 62. Trauma
17. January 2415 AD, HSASV Normandy, Enroute to the Citadel
Hearing the knock on the door of the captain's quarters, Emily frowned at the screen and the asari on it."Sounds like I have to go. We'll talk again soon. I promise."
"Of course we will," her aunt shrugged. "Now go, take care of your urgent Spectre business."
"You'd know all about Spectre business, wouldn't you, Agent Tela Vasir?"
"I'd say it runs in the family but since we're not actually related," Tela offered.
"We'll just chalk it up to your overwhelmingly positive influence?"
"Exactly."
As the knock repeated, she sighed. "I really gotta go now. Bye."
"Good bye."
Shutting the terminal sitting on the desk wooden desk and glancing at the clock to figure out who would bother her as late as-
Huh.
Six in the evening?
She really had lost track of time ever since the mindmeld.
-to figure out who would bother her as early as six in the evening, Emily quickly stretched upwards and walked to the door, opening it with a wipe of her hand.
"Commander," the officer greeted formally.
"Alenko?" she replied with his name. "What's the matter?" was this about Garrus? Despite everything that had happened, the fact that the lieutenant didn't trust the detective because he might very well be spying on them for C-SEC was still present in her mind. She had told him they'd deal with it after Noveria and now that time had come.
"Nothing at all, actually," Alenko said, shaking his head in response. "I just came by to tell you that Doctor T'Soni woke up. Figured you'd want to know."
"And you were right," the N7 replied while walking to her chair and pulling the black N7 jacket from it. "Has she said anything yet?" she asked after pulling the piece of cloth on and closing up the cabin.
"Not a word," the lieutenant replied as he called the elevator with a press of the button next to its door. "She let Chakwas treat her and now she's just sitting in the medbay, basically catatonic."
"Shit."
"Doctor Chakwas said it's a normal response to a traumatic event."Then they had vastly different definitions of normal.
"But it's still not good," Emily replied.
"Of course not, Commander."
Alright, it was starting to bother her again.
"Why so formal Alenko? Didn't I tell you to drop the commander when it's just the two of us?"
"You did."
"So, what's the matter?" was this about Garrus? Or had she done something else to get on his bad side.
"I guess I'm not used to things not being formal," the man shrugged right as the doors closed. It wasn't much of a reply. She could tell that there was more to it.
"Well you should start getting used to it then," Emily shrugged. "Considering this mission might just be starting," by now everyone knew why they were headed to the Citadel not just to get a debriefing but also to be told how to continue from here on out, "you might be stuck with me as your CO for a long time."
"Dreadful. Truly dreadful."
"Damn," she whistled. "Did you just graduate to jokes?"
Watching the smile spread on his lips right as the elevator opened again, she got her answer.
"You're a fast learner, Alenko."
"So I've been told," the lieutenant said before they walked through the mess hall and to the medbay, where she could already see Williams sitting in her bed, a sling around her injured arm. From what she had been told, the NCO would make a full recovery. Within the next two weeks.
While that of course meant that she was down on one of her best shooters if something new came up after her visit to the Citadel, Emily was just glad that the gunny had gotten off comparatively easy. From what she had heard from the Parnack, which had parted ways with them by now, General Arterius had a serious concussion and at least four broken rips, Veltax wouldn't be walking decently for the coming month and Galviat, the most badly injured member of the honor guard, would have to be shipped off to Hierarchy core space for further, more intense treatment. The fight with the councilor's commandos had apparently been a pretty close call for him.
Moving on from Williams, she saw an empty bed that looked like it had been left in a hurry and, to the right of it, the asari scientist sitting on the third clinically white bed. The way she was hugging her legs and staring out of the medbays window really didn't sit all that well with Emily. No. That was an understatement. It was gut-wrenching to look at. The archeologist looked devastated.
"Do you need me in there?" Alenko asked, folding his hands behind his back.
"I appreciate it," she really did. "But I think I have to do this on my own."
"I get that," he nodded. "Take all the time you need, Shepard. I'll make sure things run smoothly while you're busy."
"Thanks."
Crossing the space between her and the medbay with a brisk pace, Emily opened the door to the clinically white room and looked at Liara, who didn't even as much as glance into her direction.
"Ma'am," Williams greeted instead.
"How you feeling, Gunny?"
"Pissed that one of the commandos got me," she replied.
"But ready for payback?"
"Always, Ma'am," the marine nodded.
"Good to hear it," Emily offered taking a cautious step towards Liara.
"She hasn't said a word since she woke up," Williams informed her.
"I heard."
"Doctor Chakwas said it might be some kind of protective response to the trauma shared by the mindmeld. But since she's not a psychologist or an asari specialist," the NCO began.
"She couldn't say for sure," the commander finished before walking towards her bed, past the one where she assumed the specialist should've been in right about now.
"Yes," Williams said. "Do you want me to give you some space. I can go to the mess hall if you want to. I got shot in the arm, not the leg."
While she also appreciated that gesture, it was unnecessary.
"No, Williams, you'll stay exactly where you are right now," she countered. "You just got shot. Give it a rest for once and stay in bed."
"Aye, Ma'am."
As she looked at the scientist, who didn't even as much as glance at her, Emily wondered if there was something she could do to snap her out of it and decided that there was only one way to find out.
"Liara, I know that nothing I can say will change what happened but," unsure of how to continue, she placed a hand on top of Liara's. The fact that she didn't pull away was already a good sign. Or at least she hoped that it was. "But I'm sorry that I put you through that. I should've known you better, gotten you back to the Normandy from the moment we knew your mother was-"
"You are the last person I blame, Commander," while she was surprised to hear her speak, the lack of emotion wasn't lost to her. "If I hadn't been so curious and had just stayed out of what the general and his brother were trying to drag me into, none of this would've happened."
"Liara you're not-"
Cutting her off again, the asari now actually looked at her.
"Yes I am," she said quietly. "My mother died because I just had to chase the perfect mystery. That's the reality I'll have to live with from here on out."
"Don't do this to yourself," feeling her pull away from her hand, Emily was stuck watching as the doctor lay down.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to sleep now. I'm tired."
She had just woken up, hadn't she?
"Of course not," Emily replied cautiously right as Chakwas left the adjacent supply room and looked at them in brief confusion before putting up a serious expression.
"Outside, please," she whispered after passing her and pressing a tray full of various pills to Williams, who was now stuck holding medication she had no idea how to use.
"What is it, Doctor?" the N7 asked after the other commander had chased away a couple of marines sitting at the same table she had chosen.
"While not entirely catatonic, the state of Doctor T'Soni is," as she searched for the right word, Emily glanced back into the medbay where Liara's back was facing them, "incredibly troublesome."
"Meaning?"
"The psychological trauma she went through might have broken her in ways that I cannot fix. While I recognize a severe case of post traumatic stress when I see it, I can't actually treat it. This kind of injury can't be fixed by a surgery theatre and some medigel. It requires prolonged, intensive treatment by a psychological specialist."
"We are headed for the Citadel," Emily pointed out. "We can make sure she'll get the best possible help once we're there."
"I don't think you understand, Commander," of course she got it. PTSD wasn't exactly a poorly understood condition, especially not from officers who were trained to recognize it in their subordinates and peers. "Given that she mindmelded with someone on the brink on her death, I'm afraid she suffered far more damage than either of us can image."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that she needs an asari specialist. Someone who can fix her mind in ways human medicine just can't."
"Which is really bad considering she's the only one to actually know where the Mu Relay is," as she looked at the source of the voice and watched the female specialist sit down at the end of the table, Emily sighed. That was something she hadn't considered. While Liara's health was incredibly important to her, especially after the asari had already put her mind back together once before, getting the information her mother had given to her was just as necessary as getting her the right kind of treatment. If Saren had already received the location of the relay and was heading to the Conduit, which was likely a crucial part of his plan to usher in the return of the reapers, they were racing against time and every day spent waiting for Liara to get better was a day closer to there not being a tomorrow.
"Specialist," she greeted."
"Young," the brunette woman clad in an unmarked marine uniform added friendly, offering her hand to Emily. "So, I heard Doctor T'Soni is up now. How is she?"
"She was catatonic until the commander talked to her," Chakwas replied with worry in her voice.
"And?" Young asked, looking at her in expectation.
"And she didn't exactly say much. Especially not in regards to the relay," Emily said, again looking at the medical bay and the back of Liara. Just what else had the dying councilor passed onto her? "Noveria hit her hard."
"Understandably," the specialist said before she clasped her hands together and put the, over her mouth. She was thinking about saying something, the N7 could tell. A few moments later she did and Shepard got why she had hesitated. It wasn't exactly an ethical proposition. "Now I hate to be the one to bring it up, but if push comes to shove and she just stays silent forever from here on out, would there be a way to extract the information? Like having another asari take it from her the same way she got it?" When the woman was done with her suggestion, she looked at Chakwas for a reply. However the doctor could only raise her arms defensively.
"Like I said, I'm not an asari specialist," she explained.
"Don't mindmelds work like that, though? A two-way street so to speak? Both parties can access whatever the other one's thinking, take and give at the same time?"
"Technically yes," the doctor nodded. "But it's not that simple."
"But we could get to the information like that if we have to, right?" the woman countered.
"Not without putting Liara at risk, " Shepard said quickly. After her 'experience' with the doctor in the wake of receiving the prothean cipher, she had felt strangely inclined to understand what had happened, prompting her to search the extranet and the Codex for information. "Sure, a mindmeld is pretty safe as long as it's voluntary. But when it's not," the N7 began.
"Permanent damage may be created on the receiving mind," Chakwas finished, the look Emily gave her prompting her to explain. "I might not be an asari specialist but I did research what could happen to you before I allowed Doctor T'Soni to try her experimental treatment."
"Do you think she wouldn't let it happen?" Young asked before glancing at the medbay.
"Sorry?"
"You said that there's no real risk if it happens voluntarily. So the only way this could go wrong is if T'Soni doesn't want it to be done."
"Given the state she's in, I'm afraid Doctor T'Soni might not be capable of a voluntary meld," the older medical officer replied. "Furthermore any incursion into her mind, especialy with the goal of procuring specific information, could permanently damage her memory and her brain."
"Making it dangerous and pointless at the same time," the specialist replied with a sigh. "So that plan's off the table." Luckily. Although she wasn't going to say it because in a way she knew that on a grand scale of things Liara's wellbeing was by far outweighed by the information in her head, any plan that would hurt one of her crew was 'off the table' to begin with. Sure, when they were on the ground fighting and she had to make decisions to win said fight, she couldn't guarantee their safety but what kind of officer would she be if she her team at risk outside of combat? "I take it it's waiting then?"
"It's still a couple of days to the Citadel. A lot can happen in that time," Chakwas offered, leading the specialist to look at her this time around.
"Waiting," Emily simply said.
"Understood," she nodded before getting up.
"Before you go," Chakwas said quickly, leading Young to freeze in place and Emily to peak up. This could be interesting.
"Yes?" she replied.
"You wouldn't happen to have an idea where your colleague went?"
"No. Why?" the quick, almost innocent way she gave that response in made Emily raise an eyebrow.
"Because despite me not remembering having discharged him, Specialist Morneau doesn't seem to be in my medbay anymore."
Morneau, huh? Of all the ways she would've guessed she'd get a name to put to the face that wasn't some dumb code sign, figuring out that a medical officer who had access to his medical record and just tell her his name by coincidence hadn't been one of them.
"Is that so?" the specialist asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"It is," if she didn't already know that the doctor hated it when her patients did that from her own, personal experience, the tone of the physician alone gave away how unpleased she was.
"Yeah. He does that sometimes," Young said in return.
"By 'that' you mean endanger his health?"
"Disappear. It's a bad habit," she shrugged.
"That it is," the older woman paused briefly. "When you find him, you can tell him that that habit might get him into a lot of trouble one day," the doctor said. "He nearly killed himself by over-exhaustion. The last thing he should be doing is discharge himself from my supervision."
"I'll be sure to pass it along when I find him."
"It'd be best if that happened sooner than later."
"So I'll go look for him right now," the woman concluded.
"Please."
"Alright. Consider it done, Doc."
Thirty Three Minutes Later, HSASV Normandy
While he was sure that the calming effect of the drive core had something to do with the fact that he was a biotic and reacted differently to mass effect fields than other people, his personal, non-scientific explanation for why the humming seemed to put him at ease was that it was rhythmic and predictable. A rare constant in an otherwise unpredictable environment.
"It's a beauty, isn't it?" the chief engineer said as he walked to a console placed near the observation window the specialist had been looking out of for god knows how long. "A marvel of human-turian engineering."
"It definitely is," the Section 13 agent replied before glancing at the man. His black hair was cut as short as possible without him becoming bald and judging by the wrinkles in his face, he was well into his fifties, making him considerably older than Morneau himself.
"I'm Chief Engineer Adams," the man introduced himself, extending a hand. It was obvious what he was waiting for.
"Daniel," he offered his first name in return.
"I don't think I've seen you around before, Daniel. Did the commander pick you up on Noveria?" he was trying to hide his curiosity with small-talk. It nearly worked.
"She did," he replied briefly, deciding to indulge the man. After all, he was the one encroaching on his working environment. "I'm not staying long, though."
"I'm sure that's what the others said as well when they first got here."
"The others?"
"The krogan, the turian, the asari," the man listed. "Wherever we go, the commander seems to bring someone new along for the ride," he chuckled. "I guess it's just her nature to make people want to follow her."
The commander. That was something he still had to get done before he left the Normandy.
"I guess so," he replied absent-mindedly.
"You're not much of a talker, are you?" Adams concluded. "Can't say I blame you. On a ship like the Normandy, peace and quiet is rare. It's why you came down here, isn't it?"
"Actually I came down here because I like the humming," Morneau said in return, this time using more than three words.
"Seriously?" Adams asked, causing him to nod. "Damn. You might be the first person I ever heard saying that. Most people just find it annoying."
"I think it's relaxing," he shrugged before rubbing the spot of his neck where a small, almost invisible scar covered his biotic amplifier. "Might have something to do with the Eezo running through my veins."
"Well. To each their own," the engineer offered while typing on his tablet and producing a hologram displaying some of the drive core's subsystems. "So, what's your story?" he asked while scratching his chin at something on the tablet.
"What do you mean?"
"Why you're here I mean," he clarified. "Wrex joined to get back at Saren, Vakarian was ordered to help us by C-SEC and Doctor T'Soni got saved by Shepard back on Therum and stayed for her mom. So, what's your story? How'd you end up on the Normandy?"
"I used to work with her father," he replied, not even sure why he had decided to tell that truth. It didn't even have anything to do with why he was on the Normandy. He chalked it up to the Eezo drain.
"Didn't he die some time ago?" Adams asked in return while swiping through the readings in front of him. "At least that's what I heard from Pressley."
"Seven months ago," Morneau replied, watching the drive core's rhythmic pulsing and coming back to his short replies. He wasn't getting out of this one, was he? As a sigh left his mouth, he pushed himself away from the glass. He had said he'd do it so now he would, no matter how tired he still felt. "You just reminded me that I still have to take care of something. I'll see you around, Adams."
"Sure you will, I'm always right here. Just me and the core, day in day out," the man muttered, now fully focused on his work.
Although the way to elevator and up to the deck where Shepard's quarters were located wasn't far, it took the specialist strangely long to actually get there. Or at least it felt like he did.
Why was this so hard?
That was the question he was asking himself as he was standing in front of the automatic door and hesitating to knock on it.
He could go deep into hostile territory, be on his own all the way through a mission and get out in the nick of time and not lose his nerve once, no matter how close he got to being caught.
He could face down a horde of husk, watch a platoon of marines die horrible deaths and fail to save one of the agents that had trained him and not freeze for longer than second.
He could walk through a biotic field that was tearing him apart on a molecular to shoot an asari matriarch from up close without hesitation and only pass out from over-exhaustion when he knew the job was done.
But he couldn't have an honest conversation about the fact that he felt pretty shitty about one of those?
He knew that trying to hide behind the fact that it was 'classified' wasn't going to work. Shepard had already either seen or been told just about everything that had made Akuze classified.
So he had no reason to not have this conversation.
Yet he was still reluctant to get it over with.
What kind of person did that make him?
He wasn't sure but it certainly wasn't the kind he wanted to be.
Screw it.
Before he could second guess the choice, the knocked his fist against the center of the grey door and readied himself for a chat that was probably way overdue. Figuring that he'd have a couple more moments to actually come up with what he was trying to say, the fact that the door opened nearly instantaneously took him by surprise and robbed him of any chance to put together a plan of attack.
As he came eye to eye with the commander, it struck him that this was actually the first time they'd talk without someone shooting at them, which of course meant that it was also the first time he actually got a good look at what she looked like without an onyx-black N7 armor protecting her or the more subtle clues a person gave off when another approached them. After quickly looking at her, he summarized what he could tell on the fly. Judging by the somewhat dark, wet auburn hair that ran to her shoulders, he had caught her just after showering and judging by green eyes that instantly mustered him from head to toe before her freckled face locked itself into a stoic impression devoid of the brief smile it had carried when opening the door, she wasn't happy to see him. Furthermore the way she folded her arms in front of the black N7 shirt she was wearing and seemed intent on staring straight through his own eyes, told him that she also didn't exactly want to talk to him.
He hadn't expected anything else.
"Can I help you, Specialist Morneau?" the commander asked when he failed to say even a word. That took him by surprise. How did she-?
Focus. It didn't matter. It was just a name.
"We need to talk," he explained.
"About?" Shepard returned.
That was a good question. Was he just going to say it or was he going to find a way to lead to the fact that he had dropped her father to his death?
"Noveria," he said, deciding to do what he always did. Improvise. "It's obvious that I stepped on your feet." He hadn't meant to do so but from her point of view, that's exactly what had happened yesterday.
"That's one way to put it," the N7 said before moving away from the door frame and walking into the room. Although it wasn't explicitly said, he took the gesture as an invitation and followed, allowing the door to close behind him.
"And what's the other way?"
"The other way would be that you have some kind of problem with me," the red-haired woman shrugged while leaning against the wall next to her desk, always keeping his eyes on him as if she didn't actually trust him. Then again, she probably didn't. "Which is strange considering I never actually met you before the Citadel and only got your name like half an hour ago."
"I don't have a problem with you," he clarified. Although it had taken some time, he finally got that the problem was more with himself.
"It sure feels like it from where I'm standing," Shepard replied. "I mean I get it. People like you?" interesting choice of words. "They have to be cold and ruthless. It's part of your job," as she paused to give him time to respond, Morneau instead chose to patiently wait for the rest of her summary of his character. "But that doesn't explain the arguing and the accusations. The only reason for those would be if we actually had a history with each other. And as far as I remember we don't," she had the feeling that it was personal.
It wasn't.
Not to him.
"We don't," he said. "But I did know your dad," it was a calculated reply. He wanted to see what she did with it and go from there.
"Section 13's not that big. I figured you would've run into him," she replied dryly. "Still doesn't explain your problem with me."
Well.
Leading up to it evidently didn't work.
So there was only one thing left to say.
Meanwhile
So what? He knew her father. Big deal. She had expected that. At most there were a couple hundred Section 13 agents in the entirety of the HSAIS. Of course they had said hello to each other at one point or another while passing by on Cronos Station.
As she waited for the man to say something else, Emily wondered if she had broken his concept of how he had planned for this to go down. As his hazel eyes danced around the room, changing between looking at her and what little personal affects she had brought to the cabin, she couldn't help but notice that he still looked far paler than he had on the Citadel or before the fight with the now deceased councilor. Although he hadn't lost any blood, at least not that she knew of, the Eezo drain certainly made it look like he had. As usual, Chakwas had been right. He had left far too early. Why that worried her? She wasn't sure. Maybe it was just the prospect of him passing out all of the sudden and her having to haul him all the way back to the medbay just after the first relaxing shower in days.
"You see," he hesitated before rubbing his neck. "I didn't just run into Alec. He was a friend," her dad had never mentioned that part to her. Then again, why would he? It's not like he could've known she'd run into some of his colleagues. Never mind that now though. She wanted to get to the bottom of this.
"So you have a problem with me because my dad was your friend? How does that work?"
"It's not because he was my," cutting himself off and gesturing for the bed, she again raised an eyebrow. "Alright. You might want to sit down."
"I'm fine standing."
"I still think you really should sit down."
"I said I'm fine standing. Just say it already."
"I watched him die."
"You what?"
Ever since it had happened, the one thing she hadn't been able to shake, the reason she wasn't willing or able to deal with the fact that her father was dead, was how it had happened. But now, seven months later and long past the point where she had come to the conclusion that she'd never know, the answer was seemingly being handed to her. By this guy none the less.
"I watched Alec die and every time I look at you, I'm back to when it happened," he muttered, stuffing one of his hands into the pockets of the unmarked, black and grey marine BDU he was wearing to pull out a black piece of cloth. "That's my problem," he explained before sitting down on her bed and unfolding the roll, revealing it to be a black patch with a single red dagger stitched on it. The cloth looked worn and the colour of the symbol had faded a long time ago. By the looks of it he had carried it around for years. "I got to live when every one else died. A hundred ninety six people and the only reason I walked away was because your dad didn't," after he was done talking, he simply looked at the patch and waited for her to say something. But instead of instantly giving an emotional reply, Emily took a breath and a moment to think.
If his problem was actually a case of massive survivor's guilt, a lot of things made a lot more sense. He couldn't look at her without going back to the shittiest moment of his life and living through it all over again.
She had seen it crack the toughest people and no matter what kind of treatment was attempted, it never went away entirely. It became a part of who you were. When the thought had passed, a realisation struck her. He probably had never been treated in the first place. She didn't think that there were any psychologists in the HSA that had the kind of security clearance for a Section 13 agent to actually go and talk them about an op gone bad. Hell, if she had to take a guess, they were probably encouraged not to talk about it in the first place and to just suck it up and soldier on. In addition to fitting their attitude perfectly, it was basically the worst reaction one could have to that kind of post traumatic stress. It was the surest way to make the worst out of the situation and looking at him staring a hole into the piece of black cloth, Emily figured that this was exactly what had happened. In that moment, she understood the man far more than before. She still didn't agree with his choices or questionable morale code mind you, but she got why he was the way he was around her. To him an op with her felt like the one time everything had gone wrong.
"How'd he die?" she asked after the realisation.
"We got into a bad spot. It looked like we were both goners. That is until Alec gave his life so I could get the intel out."
"I got that part. I want to know is how he died."
"He fell."
"Come again?"That wasn't enough for her.
"We were running from a horde of husks," seven months ago? General Arterius hadn't mentioned that part when he had given her the 'quick' hour-long rundown of their history with the reapers and Harbinger prior to Eden Prime. "And there was this bridge up a head. A really old piece of shit. When we crossed it, the husks followed and about two thirds into the way, the thing came down. I guess we were too heavy for it. Anyways," he said, now looking at the ceiling. "I still don't know how I did it but when it dropped, I jumped and somehow managed to get a hold of the edge and Alec. That's when the bad spot came. I couldn't pull us up, he couldn't climb up on his own and what was left of the bridge wasn't going to hold us much longer. We both had the intel but I was the one holding both of us. So Alec did what he was trained to do."
"Which is?"
"Put the mission first," Morneau replied with exactly what she had feared he'd say. "He slipped out of his gauntlet when I wasn't looking and just like that, he was gone. He died because I hesitated to do what he did. I was thinking about it, you know? Making a stand on the bridge so he could run. But before I stopped, the damn thing broke," when he was done, he pushed himself off the bed and started walking around the room seemingly only to keep himself occupied while she thought about what he had said, the patch still in his hand. While he waited Emily pictured the situation and for some reason simply came to the conclusion that both of them would've died if he had done that. She had looked for the reason why her dad had died ever since it had happened. According to the specialist, he was responsible because he had thought twice about dying for her dad, leading to her dad having to do it for him. It was the perfect equation. Someone she already disliked was telling her that it was his fault. She should've been satisfied, happy to have a face to blame.
So why the hell was the first thing that occurred to her that the guy blaming himself for it wasn't the one responsible?
Maybe it was because at the end of the day she had to face the reality of what had happened. Her father was dead because he had put his job above everything else, including his family. While it was noble and heroic and all that other flattering stuff people said about the dead and the soldier in her recognized it, the daughter was hurt that he'd place everyone else over his wife and kid. And she was ashamed of that because she knew that it was the most selfish thing she could possibly think right now. Biting her lip, Emily finally spoke up.
"The only difference that would've made is that you'd both be dead now," as soon as she had said it, the specialist stopped his pacing. "Think about it. The bridge was going to break no matter where you were standing, right?"
"Most likely."
"So the only reason the two of you even got a chance of surviving was because you did think a moment to long. It's what got you the chance to jump and catch my dad. If you hadn't, you wouldn't be standing here and the intel would be gone now as well, making the entire op and his death pointless," as she listened to her words, she realised that she had to know one more thing to understand why her dad had chosen to put Morneau and the mission over his own life. "What intel were you carrying?"
"Data on Object Theta," when she looked at him in confusion, Morneau explained. "It was the artifact that turned the Ceberus team into husks. When we hit their base, Alec and I managed to uncover some of their research. It's why we know how dangerous Harbinger tech and indoctrination really is. If it wasn't for their data, we would still be thinking its physical contact that gets you. And who knows how many more of our guys would've already been turned against us by now without that info."
"So it was important," she concluded before pushing herself away from the wall and unfolding her arms.
"Depending on how the rest of your mission goes, we might've been carrying the most important data drive in galactic history back then," he replied.
Although it sounded exaggerated, that lone sentence made Emily understand. She got why her dad had chosen to die. It hadn't just been about the HSA or some political power play. It had been about literally everyone, including her and her mother. So despite seemingly putting the mission first, he had actually done it for them as well. He had known the stakes and made the one choice that seemed most sensible to him.
In a way that was closure. Or at least as close to closure as she'd ever get.
"For what's worth it, I'm sorry about your dad," she hated condolences. They always felt empty . But somehow this one actually managed to sound sincere, something only her uncle had managed before.
"Thank you," she muttered. "And thank you for telling me. Knowing what happened to him," she lost track of what she was going to say. "It helps," there it was.
When she was done, both of them realised that neither had anything left to say. So the specialist threw a last glance at her and started to walk to the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck in the process. Only when he had been about to leave the cabin entirely did he stop for one last time.
"Can I ask you for a favour?" he asked while stuffing the patch back into his pocket.
"What is it?"
"Yo-yo and I aren't going to go back to the Citadel. Your pilot will drop us off at Cronos Station," that was news to her. Then again it was quite literally on their way. "So when you get the chance and the quarian happens to wake up while you're there," he said, somewhat awkwardly, "Tell her that I'm sorry for what happened. It was nothing personal, it's just that the mission had to come first."
"No offense but I don't think she'll want to hear that first, from you of all people."
"Yeah, I figured," he replied, his back still turned to her. "Can you still do it, though?"
"Sure," she nodded. "Her name's Tali, by the way."
"I know," he replied with a shrug. "Had to find her somehow, didn't I?"
"So why not call her that?" she asked.
"Because calling her quarian keeps it from becoming personal," he said before leaving her alone.
Alright.
Maybe cold and ruthless hadn't been the correct estimation of his character.
Distant however?
That he definitely was.
Emily frowned while she watched the door close. Then she glanced at her terminal. She had gotten closure but as strange as it sounded, it was the last thing she wanted to think about right now. Right now she just wanted to pretend Eden Prime hadn't even happened yet and to find something to keep her from dialing a priority channel to her mother and telling her the highly classified truth as well.
The best way to do that was to catch up with some old friends.
When the comm-link had been built up and the transmission became stable, a friendly face greeted her.
"Would you look at that. Back already?" the other N7 said, the sound of rain hitting the window of his barrack room accompanying every word. Was it already rain season back in Rio? She hadn't been back in a long time.
"No, not yet. Just got some downtime. You got time to talk, Kai?"
"To you? I think I might just manage to squeeze that into my schedule."
"You have no idea how glad I am to hear that," she sighed.
"Oh I can tell," the asian man replied. "What do you wanna talk about, Em? Everything alright?"
"Yes, no, Let's just talk about anything, please."
"Anything you say?" She was glad that he didn't push the matter.
"Yes."
"So," he began, a curious smirk spreading on his face. "I heard you're a Spectre now. How'd that happen?"
"It's-"
"Classified?"
"Afraid so."
"So just give me the abridged version," he suggested before leaning back in his chair. "That's anything, right?"
"I guess it is."
And just like that, her mind was occupied.
Two Days Later, 2156 CE, Aephus, Turian Naval Rally Point, Orbital Military Hospital
"And we have no idea were the clones are being made or where this Conduit is located?" Primarch Fedorian asked after the conclusion of his debrief.
"Not yet, Sir. The location of the Mu Relay was given to Doctor T'Soni alone and ever since the mindmeld, she's been nearly catatonic. As for the clones, we're completely clueless. The only likely place we can really rule out at this point is Noveria." Desolas said while finishing the report from the bed he had been put in from the moment he had stumbled out of the Parnack's airlock. As he had found out yesterday, a series of broken ribs and a bad concussion had been enough of a reason for him to be sent to Aephus' state of the art medical installation until further notice. In addition to the best and fastest treatment he could get short of Palaven, an added benefit of it was that he could keep a close eye on the much more injured Galviat, who had been placed just opposite to him, a worrying number of machines attached to his arms and torso and an uncomfortably stiff brace locked around the leg he had hurt on Therum and only made worse by repeated stim-pack use.
Stubborn hastati.
"Nearly?" the turian on the other end of the line repeated.
"I was told she exchanged a few words with the commander before going catatonic again. It is believed to be a response to the trauma she suffered by mindmelding with the councilor."
"Which raises a new issue entirely," the primarch sighed. "As I understand, indoctrination can work in many ways, correct?" he knew where this was going. It was a possibility that had crossed his mind from the very moment he had read Callius' report of what had happened after he had passed out.
"Yes, Sir."
"Do you know if the human crew has taken steps to confirm whether or not Doctor T'Soni was compromized by the meld?"
"I don't, Sir."
"That is problematic," the primarch said. "Considering the information came from an indoctrinated source, even if she starts to cooperate, anything she might say to us could be our enemy attempting to deceive us." It was a strategy that's perfectly suit the past methods of the Harbinger.
"Permission to speak, Sir?"
"We're having a conversation, permission to speak is implied, General Arterius."
"What will our next step be?"
"For now we'll have to focus on the threat we know to be real and not a distraction, the krogan clone army your brother is creating. TNI has been ordered to follow the trail of the gear the krogan were using and several Recon groups are deploying to the Traverse as we speak."
"What about the other council members?"
"According to Councilor Sparatus, they will wait for an official reaction until the commander has made her public statement."
"And unofficially?"
"Unofficially they're shoring up the defenses of the Citadel with more fleets and more troops," he'd be interested to see how that was supposed to help them considering the Conduit was apparently capable of bypassing the station's defenses altogether. At least according to the late councilor. "Furthermore an entire STG infiltration regiment has been deployed to find the cloning facilities from the moment the council was made aware of the problem. Since their deployment, they've also been coordinating with a cadre of huntresses under the direct command of the Republics. Between the three of us, we will find the installation."
"And the humans?"
"Waiting."
"For?"
"For their leadership to be informed. It appears that Shepard hadn't actually reported anything of substance back to them or the Council prior to T'Soni's death."
Six Hours Later, 20. January 2415 AD, Arcturus Station
"And that's the short summary," Director Rei finished, trying to read the blonde woman in front of him. As she drummed her fingers against the heavy wooden desk, he waited for a response to the field reports he had passed on. Between the revelation of a krogan clone army being bred to serve the Harbinger and his reapers, the death of Councilor Benezia T'Soni, who's retrieval had been the main reason behind the induction of a second human Spectre and the problematic issue that they had no idea whether or not the location of the Mu Relay and this 'Conduit' had already been passed on to the rogue Spectre, it was a lot Chancellor Goyle had to think about. Therefore he'd be patient.
"I believe the short summary would include the fact that this mission has turned into a powder keg just waiting to explode because the commander didn't feel that it was necessary to actually inform us of what was going on."
"The moment our agents learned of the circumstances surrounding the mission, they reported them to us."
"But Shepard didn't. This isn't about your men, Director. It's about the commander."
Technically he wasn't responsible for that. Commander Shepard had left the HSA's chain of command and supervision from the moment she had been inducted as a Spectre. However he still felt like he had to set that part right, if only to prevent the N7 from being disciplined for doing her job to the best of her ability.
"Shepard has been chasing Arterius across the Traverse for the last two weeks on board of a ship surviving simply because of its ability to stay undetected, Madam Chancellor. From what I understand, the geth were right on her trail until they hit Noveria. Reporting something of this size is rather hard under those circumstances."
"Yet she somehow managed to have chats with Anderson and Director Harper," as she pinched the bridge of her nose, Rei tried to come up with a way to still set this straight. "Although I believed that I had already made it clear, I am not Francis Noé. I don't like being overstepped, especially not in matters as important as this one."
"Of course, Madam Chancellor. But you have to understand, following the mission on Feros, Shepard had no time to report back to us."
"Space is big, Director. She had days to give a quick report."
"Which wouldn't have come close to painting a clear enough picture for further action."
"Why do you feel the need to defend her, Director? If it wasn't for a coincidence, your operatives never even would've run into Shepard. You have no real involvement in her mission." It was a justified question.
"Because I know what it's like to be the man on the ground, Ma'am," he replied while folding his hands behind his back. "In some situations, you just have to keep going. There's a time and a place for writing reports, holding debriefs and being accountable. Chasing a rogue Spectre waiting to unleash a galactic cataclysm isn't one. You need sovereignty of action to even stand a chance at winning. Discussing every little engagement prior to your mission's success could spell disaster. During ops like this, every second counts and if you're asking me, the fact that she's being sent to the Citadel to give a public statement is an enormous waste of her time."
When he was done with his honest assessment, Rei waited.
Again.
"You seem to have a lot of faith into her, which is strange given she's not one of your agents."
"Trusting your operatives to make the right call is one of the pillars of running an intelligence service. Besides," he said while looking at Goyle. "There's a reason we choose her to follow in Anderson's footsteps. Just like him, she's capable of working independently and making the tough calls."
"You know that you would've made a great lawyer, Director Rei?" the woman replied to which he could only shrug. The only walks of life he had ever been on were the military and HSAIS. "I'll see if I can find a way to sell this half as well as you just did to the rest of the government. Hopefully they'll sanction a military deployment to combat the threat of a krogan clone army."
"Which I presume will serve them as a justification for engaging in more operations related to Shepard's mission?"
"If they happen to be around while other allied forces are attacked, they will of course defend them," as Goyle started typing on her terminal, likely to summon the ministers and other high ranking officials based around Arcturus, she looked at him once more. "You're dismissed, Director."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Rei did as he was told and left, intending to handle a whole different issue altogether, unaware that his success here would drastically alter the mission of a specialist currently doing his part to combat a very different but equally dangerous threat to the HSA.
21. January 2415 AD, Armstrong Nebula, BC-313 New Dawn
"What kind of delay are we talking about here, Colonel? Hours? Days?"
"Organized resistance has been broken, Ma'am," the former HSA officer replied from his improvised FOB on a desolate tundra world in the Terminus. Under her orders' a series of assaults aimed at the mining operations of a dozen smaller Terminus factions had been launched by their growing force of veterans, sympathizers and new HSA deserters to continue their efforts of rebuilding the IFSDF to more than a web of loosely connected separatist cells operating from the the Fringe. "But they were far more productive than we had hoped for," it was strange that he made something positive sound so negative. Then again it did mess with their time sensitive schedule. Any minute they spent on the world was a minute the warlord's forces could come closer to retaliating for the lighting strike against one of their mining bases.
"Meaning?" Admiral Drescher asked.
"If we're not interrupted, we should've drained their stockpile of eezo and iridium by tomorrow night," the man said right before a missile explosion rocked the side of a hill overlooking the quarry in the background of the FOB, prompting several of the soldiers working behind the colonel to stop what they were doing and rush out of the tent.
"An interruption I presume?"
"No. Just some stragglers. Nothing we can't handle," he replied confidently.
"Good. Make sure to inform me of any further developments," she nodded. She had faith in Petrovsky. Ever since choosing the right side in the civil strife of humanity, he had proven tenfold why the HSA had considered him a huge asset. His talent for warfare was both impressive and terrifying at the same time.
"Yes, Admiral."
With that the transmission was closed, allowing Kastanie Drescher to move on to the next field report from a similar operation. As she started putting in the encrypted contact information of the strike force responsible for securing a large shipment of palladium meant to assist with the reconstruction of a squadron of derelict IFS corvettes that had been found inside a hidden, long since abandoned supply depot established on a remote asteroid just outside the Fringe Worlds' borders, Captain Taylor came into the room, a tablet in his hands and urgency on his face.
"I just got word from the Makalu, Ma'am," he said, sounding as excited as she had ever heard him. "They're saying that they've been presented with a chance to deal a crippling blow to the HSA."
"Weren't they supposed to evacuate soon?"
"They were but this is huge," the man said before handing her the tablet. It displayed a set of fleet orders procured straight from the dreadnought's command network. According to them, the Makalu and the rest of the Fifth Fleet would be sent to shore up the CDF, the Citadel Defense Fleet, by the end of the week, thus giving the group of IFS operatives still onboard of the dreadnought the chance to use an HSA ship to cripple the biggest symbol of the Council, permanently damaging their relationship with each other. "They'll never recover from this."
As her eyes narrowed, the admiral put down the tablet in disgust.
"Absolutely no. Tell them to abort and progress with the evacuation as planned. Their mission is recruiting HSA officers, not executing suicide missions"
"But Ma'am-"
"We're not terrorists, Ronald. We're liberators. And I'm not Andrej Kamarov. I won't sanction the murder of a hundred thousand people. Be they alien or human. Am I making myself clear?"
"Yes Ma'am. Of course, Ma'am," her loyal XO replied quickly.
"Tell them to evacuate as planned."
"Right away, Ma'am."
21. January 2415 AD, HSASV Makalu, Bridge
"I'm sorry but we can't hold this deployment back, Specialist. The CDF is waiting for the Fifth to reinforce it. Admiral Kahoku's passing was a tragedy but it can't cause the entire fleet to stand still," Fleet Admiral Ahern, the man in charge of the massive logistical chain necessary to keep the HSA's navy operational, spoke. As it was typical for this kind of interstellar meeting, he was being projected by the black, holographic tiles lining the main communication room of the Makalu's bridge.
"You do realise he was murdered, right?" Redford replied before quickly adding a 'Sir' when he caught the visible annoyance on the hologram's blue face.
"Yes. When I was made aware of your presence in one of my fleets, I was also made aware of the exact circumstances of Kahoku's death."
"So you understand that there's still at least one Iffy on board of this ship who'd probably die to get a chance to have the Citadel in the crosshairs of a human dreadnought."
"If you're trying to suggest that one man could take control of and fire the maingun of an Everest-Class dreadnought, you might not entirely understand the size of the weapon you're standing in."
"I'm trying to suggest that we have a lot more than one separatist operative onboard, Sir." When he had said it, the specialist saw the anger rise to the admiral's face, a man of his standing probably wasn't used to being talked back.
"How so?" he replied with a slow, quiet tone that probably helped him with keeping his composure.
"I looked at every way I could think of, tried most of them myself as well. There's just no way a lone operative could've gotten past all the security and all the measures put in place to keep Kahoku from being measures without having help from the inside."
"I was told you had already vetted the security platoon and ruled them out as suspects?"
He had. After the talk he had shared with Lieutenant Taylor, he had investigated a little more and come to the conclusion that none of the marines tasked with protecting the admiral had had anything to do with the man's assassination, despite it being the most logical possibility. Although they were closest to Kahoku and a number of suspicious circumstances had surrounded their shift, they all lacked the motive and the means.
"I did."
"So what other group could have been responsible for killing Kahoku then?"
He had come up with a decent idea of that at this point.
"I don't know, not yet," he lied.
At this point the only people on the Makalu that he trusted completely were Taylor and the marines of the security platoon. Anyone else, especially the staff that had the ability and the security clearance to listen in on this transmission, was a suspect and had no business knowing that he was onto the game they were playing.
"So you are asking me to delay a critical deployment because of a large separatist force waiting to seize control of a human dreadnought despite not having any actual proof of their existence?"
"Yes."
"This is ridiculous. Even for Section 13."
"I know it's hard to just take my word for it but I'm the man on the ground and I'm telling you that there is a very real chance of one of your dreadnoughts causing the biggest terrorist attack since Kamarov glassed Illyria."
"What you're telling me and what you're proving to me are two different things, Specialist. Unless you give me hard evidence right now, the Fifth Fleet will deploy as planned. Its personal will be recalled from shoreleave by the week's end, and then they'll head for the relay and start the journey to the Citadel."
"Giving the ISF the opportunity of a lifetime."
Redford would've loved to tell the admiral his personal theory but he couldn't. After all, the same people who had given him this off the record chat with Ahern were the ones he considered the most likely suspects.
The military police detachment of the Makalu.
After he had tried recreating Admiral Kahoku's assassination and found that it was simply impossible to do so as long as he stuck to the 'script', the official version of what had happened as presented by the MPs, there was only one other possibility. The official version wasn't the way it had gone down. Although he had initially chalked it up to a faulty investigation, after all military police rarely ever had to solve a murder, the way all pieces from the reports of the first responders to the crime scene investigators and the statements taken by several MP interrogators perfectly aligned to create the story of a single operative had made him suspicious. It was simply improbable that all parts of the twenty-two headed investigation had all made the same crucial mistakes. Unless of course it was intentional on their part.
"I won't hold back a crucial fleet deployment just because you have a hunch that something's wrong, Specialist. Either report to me when you have hard proof or accept that not everything's a grand IFS conspiracy. Ahern out."
With that the hologram faded away and the lights of the room turned back on. Not a moment later the door opened and Colonel Salib, the head of the military police investigation, walked in, eager to her what had been said.
"And?"
"And we're still going to the Citadel." He wasn't going to blame Admiral Ahern for the fact that he had just forced his hand. He was however going to point out that he had warned the man when the inevitable disciplinary hearing came around.
"Then I'll make sure to make the necessary preparations," oh he was sure that she'd make preparations. He just didn't count on them being in the HSA's interest.
"And I'll work this one out of my system," he replied before leaving the colonel with a reasonable explanation as to why he was headed to the marine gym After stopping to quickly change into a more appropriate set of clothes to complete the ruse just in case someone was following him, he found who he was looking for.
"Lieutenant Taylor," he greeted after walking up behind the marine and interrupting his routine by grabbing the bar and helping him hold the considerable weight midway through the exercise.
"Captain Bradford," the marine returned with a somewhat annoyed voice before pushing against Redford's grip and placing the bar in its holding. Next he sat up and rolled his shoulders. "Here for another interrogation?"
"Last time was a statement," Redford retorted. "And no. I actually just have a quick question."
"Alright. Shoot."
"You've run security all over the Makalu, right?"
"Right."
"Including the bridge and the main gun's control center?"
"Yes," he nodded.
"So you know how one would go about seizing control of both of those rooms?"
"What are you getting at, Captain?" he replied before getting up. He sounded understandably worried now.
Time to fix that.
After he had looked around the gym to make sure the other marines were distracted, the specialist pressed a button on his watch and produced his electronic HSAIS identification, which included his real rank, his real name and a red tag reading 'Section 13'.
"I need you to show me how to do it."
Codex: Citadel Defense Fleet
Consisting of turian, asari, salarian and, since their exclusion from the Treaty of Farixen in 2388 AD, also human ships, 'Citadel Defense Fleet' is the name commonly given to the collection of naval vessels, ranging all the way from patrol cutters and corvettes to dreadnoughts and carriers, tasked with protecting the imminent vicinity of the Citadel. While not an official formation due to the Council's lack of a unified military, effective cooperation between the various species contributing to the CDF is guaranteed from the headquarter of C-SEC's own naval elements.
Serving as the main point of contact between the various navies of Council Space, the CDF was as much a symbol and deterrent as it was an proven concept. With the exception of irregular drills and whatever combat experience the various ships it is made up of brought with them, the CDF did not see any actual combat from the point of its establishment until 2415 AD when a fleet of geth ships led by the rogue Spectre Saren Arterius engaged them during the turian's attempt to assassinate the Council and seize control of the station so that he may-
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A/N:
As I expected, the fact that I have vacation improved my productivity! This is the fastest update in the last year, or at least I think it is.
Yay!
Alright, to the chapter.
With Noveria done...
..we're in the endgame now. (there was no other way)
Let's run the checklist of what we achieved today, shall we? It was a happy chapter!
Liara's traumatized! Go Tea- Hold up. That's bad. Really bad. She's the only one who knows about Ilos...
But Morneau got rid of his survivor's guil- wait, that's not how psychology works, is it? He just explained the issue. He didn't actually fix it. And there's also the whole problem about the morale compass, isn't there?
I got it now! Desolas is goo- No. Stop. He's in a medical facility and has to wait things out for now and might not be back on his feet when Vermire hits.
On the bright side Shepard got to talk to Len- ...Oh. She's gonna have to answer a lot of questions from Goyle when this is over, isn't she? Damn it. Not good either.
Well, Redford's still fine- What's that? He'll be in a world of trouble and 'bloody hells' soon enough? Shit.
At least the IFS had a great day and all. I guess that's something, ain't it?
...
...
... okay so in retrospective it might not have been a happy chapter after all. I might've gone a bit over board with making the situation shitty right in time for the third and final act of SV's Mass Effect 1.
But dread no(ugh)t! (okay I'll stop the comedy A/N now. I get it. It's not working.)
It's bad but it's not over. Shepard will get her chance to talk to the council in the next chapter and when since this is SV's council and not the canon one, they're actually gonna try and be useful and sensible about it. And STG is also pretty good at their job. I mean come on, they're STG.
(((... also we still have to fill like 50 chapters worth of Mass Effect 2 and 3 so it can't realistcally speaking be over so never mind that...)))
I'm rambling again.
Review and tell me what you thought of one of SV's ... bleaker chapters.
For the record we're at 532 reviews, 834 favorites and 929 follows. (I'll chalk the lack of the usual growth up to the fact that I'm pretty sure we're slowly running out of people who're still browsing this part of FF)
See you around next time.
