Chapter 74. A Rough Awakening


17. March 2417 AD, HSASV Normandy SR-2

"Yes. And no," the blonde woman replied after a moment of consideration. "EDI's a," she began before looking at the server core. "Actually, I think its best if she explains it to you herself."

She? Herself? This definitely sounded like an AI to Emily. And considering what the last AI she had spoken to had been up to, the N7 felt a sense of prejudice and suspicion swell up in her. "EDI, introduce yourself, please," the woman asked of the AI. A moment later it obliged the request.

"With pleasure, Miss Wigmore," the synthetic voice spoke with an unusual grace that further solidified the N7's suspicion. "Hello, Commander Shepard. My name is EDI," it said while a small blue orb appeared on a stand next to the server and turned to face her. Emily's eyes instantly locked on to it. Judging by the way its 'mouth' moved as EDI spoke, this was the AI's avatar. "I am an enhanced virtual intelligence created by the navy's CDI Program. My mission is to fill an advisory and assistance role onboard the Normandy SR-2. It will be my duty to handle all electronic warfare suits and, upon your request, assist the crew with events and missions as they occur. To do this, I have been granted limited access to all systems of the Normandy SR-2 and your armor's systems. However like all crew members, I ultimately answer to you, and your superiors."

The N7 crossed her arms in front of her chest. "An enhanced VI?" she repeated before switching between looking at the woman and her companion. "Why not just call her for what she is? An AI." she added, not even realizing that she too had started to treat this cyber intelligence like a person.

The two shared a look. Then the man sighed as if he had explained this a dozen times before already, which considering just how many people he likely had to talk to get EDI aboard the Normandy was probably the case. "Because there is still a key difference between EDI and a fully realized AI. Sure, she's smarter and more adaptable than any of us are ever going to be, but like the rest of the CDIs," there were more? "She can't remove the restraints we built into her core. She's shackled, so to speak, which by definition means that she's not a true AI."

"Okay," Shepard nodded, well aware that she lacked the expertise to tell whether or not the man was actually saying the truth or simply bullshitting her to get her approval. Since they were on the same team, she simply assumed that he was sincere and that there actually was a difference there, beyond what was obviously an attempt to stay on the legal side of the Council's AI laws. While the conversation with Sovereign was still fresh in her mind, despite it being two years in the past for everyone else, Emily understood that this 'EDI' wasn't a Reaper and as such, probably didn't deserve her suspicion. Furthermore the tactician in her understood that if used correctly, she might even turn into one of her biggest assets. While humans had never used them in war, the experiences of the Council were clear. Before they had been outlawed, AIs had often turned the tide of battle. She'd be an idiot to throw that away because of the terrible impression Sovereign had made. "In that case, welcome aboard, EDI," she simply greeted after coming to those terms.

"Thank you. It will be my pleasure to work as part of your crew, Commander Shepard," the small blue avatar spoke. Then it turned its 'head' towards the blonde woman and back to Shepard.

"She's waiting for you to dismiss her," Wigmore said after the N7 threw a questioning look at her.

"Okay. That'll be all for now, EDI," Emily said a moment later.

"Logging you out, Commander," and with that, the avatar vanished, leaving the three of them alone in the small room behind the med-bay.

"I take it that means you're done?" the commander asked just before the Scottish man began to pack up the one thing he had brought with him, a terminal.

"Yes, the installation is finished. So don't worry," 'Wigmore' replied before turning to look at her. "Aiden and I will leave you and the Normandy as soon as we arrive on Cyrene," she added. Was it just her or had the tech just taken her words the wrong way?

"I'm not looking to get rid of you, if that's the impression you got," Emily said, feeling the need to clarify what she had meant. While the N7 had the impression that she was in rather good spirit considering she had just woken from a two-year long coma at the brink of death, Emily wasn't entirely ready to deny that she might still be a bit rough around the edges when it came to talking to people right now.

"Oh no, no, no," Wigmore said, quickly waving her hands in the air. "That's not what I was saying. It's just that we're needed back on Cronos Station," she added.

"And that fighting the Collectors isn't exactly what the navy trained us for," her companion added with a shrug. "I never shot a gun outside of a firing range before and Robin here isn't even military. If we stick around, we'd just get in the way of you and yours saving the world."

"So its best we take our leave before you go anywhere dangerous," Wigmore finished.

"Okay," she nodded before walking through the open door of the small server room and into the medbay where Doctor Chakwas was already expecting her with a raised eyebrow.

"An AI on a human warship," the older woman chuckled. "If you had told me that this was going to happen two years ago, I would've just laughed in your face and called you mad."

"You don't like the idea of EDI being on board?"

"No, quite the contrary. We'll need every advantage we can get. But still, it's strange to see how times have changed."

"How so?"

"The navy was the branch that shut down human AI research the first time around. And now here they are, installing one on their most advanced ship," Chakwas explained. "With this and everything else that's been happening, I sometimes wonder if Sovereign defeat sent us down a dangerous route."

Emily raised an eyebrow.

"You're not just talking about EDI, are you?"

The doctor smiled. "I see that dying hasn't taken away your perception," she folded her hands together and looked out the medbay window to where some of the Normandy's crewmembers were meddling in the mess hall. "No. I'm talking about everything that's happened since you've been gone. EDI's just a symptom to all the rapid changes that have happened to the HSA. I mean just look at the Verge. Before Sovereign, the idea of human soldiers ever occupying an alien planet as guns for hire would've been ludicrous. Now it's reality."

Wait.

The occupation of the what now?

"Sorry, what occupation?" Shepard asked cautiously, confusion still clearly visible on her face.

"They didn't mention that to you yet after you woke up?" Chakwas responded, surprised.

"After they told me about the Collectors, I didn't exactly stay for the long briefing," Emily began before rubbing the back of her head. "So, no. No one mentioned any occupation to me."

"I see," Chakwas nodded. "Well. To put it brief then. After you were taken out of commission by the Collectors, a coalition of independent colonies approached the HSA with a request. They said they felt threatened by the geth incursions and the attack on the Citadel. The deal was simple enough, if we put boots on their ground and bolstered their PDFs, they'd lower trading taxes in the region for us. And since the Verge is one of the most important routes," Chakwas said with a wave of her hands, "we jumped at the chance."

"I sense a but in there," Emily commented. While she technically hadn't known Chakwas for that long, their shared time on the Normandy had only been a few months, she figured that an officer with a service record as long and decorated as hers wouldn't just throw around the term 'occupation'.

"And you are quite right," the doctor nodded. "As it turned out, the only people who wanted us there were the ones in power. The rest saw the troops we deployed for what they really were, an occupation force meant to keep the government in power during the tumultuous times ahead. As you can imagine, it didn't even take a week before the first rioters found their way to our new bases. After a few months, the riots turned into armed attacks."

"And we didn't pull out why exactly?"

"By the time Arcturus understood what was going on, a withdrawal wasn't an option anymore, unless of course they wanted to lose almost all of our trade revenue in the Verge to taxes." Emily crossed her arms. Maybe it was the two missing years, but she was finding it hard to imagine a scenario where something like that could've just happened.

They were smarter than this.

"How exactly did we end up in a situation like that? The parliament I remembered never would've signed off on a deal like that."

"Because the parliament you remembered didn't have its entire military mobilized for over a year waiting for the Reapers to show up. That damn coalition pulled a masterful trick on us. They recognized that Arcturus was blowing its budget on a full mobilization, realized that a lot of the money that payed for the mobilization was coming from the trade with them and saw their chance. And there wasn't even any risk involved for them either. They knew a Council member couldn't just pull out of a diplomatic agreement and enforce trade in their region under the threat of war. Especially not the one that based its candidacy on being the wardens of the Verge."

The commander sighed. Harper had told her about the financial issues after the Council's mass mobilization, but she never would've pictured that a part of that issue had led to the HSA basically being extorted for military protection by a coalition of planets that it had protected from batarian raiders for the better part of the last decade.

Just what kind of world had she woken up in?


Twelve Hours Later, 2158 CE, Cyrene, Krugerton, Improvised Quarantine Zone Artymek

With a clank, the sergeant in charge of the containment team set down the reinforced glass cage that the dead insect was stored in on the metal desk in front of Desolas and looked at him through the polarized, violet visor of his otherwise neon-red hazmat suit. After making sure the desk could support the weight of the container, the soldier let go of the handle and folded his arms behind his back. Then he waited for his orders.

"Report," Desolas said through the speakers of his sealed Blackwatch armor. Since they didn't know what they were dealing with, he had instructed his troops to treat the little bug in front of him as if it was a biological weapon. This meant that anyone in near proximity to it had to wear environmentally sealed armor, had to go through a decontamination process before and after contact with the creature and that it could only be stored, analyzed and destroyed within a specifically contained setting.

"We've finished our analysis of the deceased creature, General Arterius. As expected, there were no signs of life. Furthermore, I can report no traces of hazardous matter," he was relieved to hear that. While his armor was climatized, it still wasn't exactly pleasant to breathe through four layers of filters when there was perfectly good air just outside of his helmet. While he didn't let it show, he figured that the containment team's NCO felt similarly. Some things were universal for soldiers, no matter their rank. "While the traces of Eezo we found in the tissue sample we took could hint at the possibility of this creature possessing some form of limited biotic abilities, it might as well just be residue from a leakage of whatever craft brought it here. For all intents and purposes, it's just a dead bug, Sir."

Desolas frowned behind his helmet. His human allies were well on their way to Cyrene by now and just like him, they had been ecstatic when he had been able to report a finding. But now his finding had turned out as nothing more but 'a dead bug'. Sure, he hadn't expected it to be a breakthrough, but he had at least hoped that it would give them a hint at how the Collectors were taking out entire colonies without firing off a single shot. Apparently that hope had already been too high.

"Understood. Put it into the freezer and ready an isolated transport container. I want it shipped to Nanus by tomorrow," he knew it was a long-shot but maybe TNI would find something after all.

"Right away, Sir," the sergeant said before picking up the container and walking back to the laboratory area of the quarantine prefab while Desolas himself headed for the decontamination chamber and the exit behind. As he did so, his HUD flashed him the news that the Normandy had just entered Cyrene's orbit and that its CO would be on the ground with him shortly.

Commander Shepard.

His mandibles pressed themselves against his face involuntarily.

While he rationally knew that there was no reason for him to despise her for what she did, she had set Saren free of the Reapers' insidious grip, or for her to hate him for what Saren had done before his death, it hadn't been Desolas hand that had killed her comrades, nothing was ever going to change that Desolas was Saren's brother. Maybe he wouldn't have these thoughts if they had spoken to each other after the battle. But Shepard had died before he had gotten the chance to ask for a meeting, for closure for both of them. Desolas took a breath, closed his eyes and focused on the noise of decontamination jets brushing over his armor. Then, as usual when he drifted into this train of thought, his mind wandered off to get closure for itself and to rationalize what had happened.

Saren was dead. In a moment that perfectly displayed how strong his brother's resolve had been, he had broken through indoctrination and ended his life in a final moment of deviance against Sovereign. As far as his Elapri heritage was concerned, that was one of the most honorable things one could do and considering his situation, it was the best death Saren could've asked for. While the Hierarchy and the galaxy was all too ready to brand his brother a traitor, a madman and a murderer and forget about what had happened, Desolas knew the truth. Saren had paid with his life to buy them these last two years, to help them build up their defenses against the Reapers and nothing, not even the harshest lies one could come up with, was ever going to change that. As the jets stopped their process and the light above the door flashed blue to let him know that the procedure was finished, the process Desolas had gone through to clean his mind was also finished.

And thus, he opened his eyes and set them on his next mission; the pair of N7 soldiers standing in front of him.


Meanwhile, 18. March 2417 AD, Cyrene

"Commander," the tall turian general greeted as he left behind the reinforced prefab dome. From what she had been told by Harper during the briefing, the prefab, which was hidden by a camouflage net and surrounded by a fence, held their best piece of evidence, a dead creature left behind by the Collectors.

"General," she replied with a salute which Arterius promptly returned. "It's good to see you again," she added before biting her lip under her helmet. If she was entirely honest with herself, this was all kinds of weird. For her it had been little more than a month since she had talked Saren Arterius into shooting himself and then stabbed his revived corpse to death after it had killed Williams and Anderson. But for the turian in front of her, Saren's brother, it had been two years in which he could've collected all kinds of hatred for her part in Saren's death. So in retrospective, she probably could've gone for something more neutral than 'it's good to see you again'.

"Likewise," the turian observed in a neutral tone before opening his helmet with a press of a button and pulling it away from his face. "You can drop your bio-hazard procedures. I just got confirmation that the creature is harmless, and sadly entirely unremarkable" he explained. As soon as his face was visible, Emily tried to read it to get a clue on whether or not he held any resentment. But given that this was turian general, who she imagined probably practiced looking stoic in the mirror every morning for half an hour, she had little luck. So instead she heeded his advice and removed her own helmet. Then he gestured for her to follow him down a path marked with small, blue chem-lights. "I have to say, you're full of surprises, Commander," Arterius went on as they walked towards the settlement. "When I heard you died, I didn't exactly think you and I were ever going to meet again. Yet here you are, back from the afterlife and ready to get in the thick of it all over again."

"Well, to be fair, I didn't exactly die," Emily pointed out as she caught up to him. "I just got very close to it."

"As I was told, you were beyond the point where state-of-the-art Council tech could save you when they found you. Heartbeat or not, that's basically the same as dying," the general countered. "Never the less, I'm glad to see you back on your feet, even if I wish you could've woken up two years earlier. Or not died at all," he added before cracking a turian smile that seemed to evaporate her worries about him hating her. However as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished. "You've been told that people are starting to forget what we fought to stop?"

"Yes," she nodded grimly while Kai silently followed them. "But I still don't get the why behind it. How can they just dismiss what happened with Sovereign?"

"If I could answer that question, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now," Arterius sighed. "A word of advice, since I figure you haven't actually had the pleasure yet. Considering what we know, living in the galaxy has become increasingly frustrating over the last two years. No matter how loud you scream, most people will turn a deaf ear when you start talking about the Reapers and the threat they pose. As far as everyone else is concerned, you stopped the invasion the moment you kept the Citadel Relay from opening. For them the Reapers are just another vanquished foe best forgotten."

"I heard that much," Emily said with a frown before looking at the edge of the settlement. Like a brick, the weight of the numbers she had read on the terminal earlier dropped on her shoulders. It was a ghost town. There was just no other way to describe it. Cars had stopped in the middle of the road, agricultural drones had dropped where they had flown before their batteries had run out and unattended powerlines had blown their fuses, extinguishing ever single light in the city. Furthermore there was a huge scorch mark in a field just outside of town and a whole block of prefabs had been ravaged by a fire likely caused by the sudden absence of every single inhabitant in the area. If not for the foam that had doused the prefabs, which she suspected to be of turian origin, there probably wouldn't be much of a settlement left to see.

"Damn," her fellow N7 muttered and just like that, Emily gasped, finally remembering that breathing was necessary for her body to function.

It was one thing to read that thirteen thousand people had gone missing in a single moment.

It was an entirely different thing to actually see the consequences of it happening.

If it hadn't been painfully clear already that they had to end this, it was now.

"Sorry about that," she quickly said as she realized that Arterius was still looking at her.

"Don't be. I had the same reaction when I first got here," the general assured her as they came to a halt on top of a hill. At its foot, she could see the rest of the turian FOB, a quickly arranged mixture of tents and prefabs arranged around a large landing craft similar to the ones she had during the invasion of Virmire. "I know that it's hard to picture, but all the evidence we've collected up to now indicates that this is the work of a single ship. There's only one scorch mark and the sensory data we managed to pull from a far-out weather station that way," he said before pointing beyond the river delta and to their south, "only registered one major atmospheric disturbance during what we believe to be the timeframe of attack."

"Must've been a large ship if it had room for twelve thousand people," Shepard pointed out as she looked at the scorch mark. While it was easily five hundred meters in diameter, the N7 figured that it had to have landed vertically. There was just no other way she could see an entire colony fitting into a ship 'that small'.

"Assuming that they abducted the colonists alive and didn't somehow process or dismember them to save storage space," Arterius replied dryly. If not for their shared knowledge of the horrors of the Reapers and the mundane, disgusting reality of bio-recycling vets like the ones the Keepers of the Citadel used, that thought alone would've been disturbing to come up with. But as things were, it was just another likely possibility they had to consider in this all-around horror scenario. She looked at the FOB below, then she spotted the figure walking up through the chem-light trail to meet them. Another turian. She halted a few meters in front of them and shot off a salute.

"General, Commander," she greeted. Her voice was familiar.

"Lieutenant Callius," as soon as the words had left the general's mouth, Emily remembered her. She was part of Arterius' honor guard. She had fought with them during their mission to stop Saren.

"As you requested, all Blackwatch squads on the planet are ready to depart. The Alarius and her marines will stay behind and maintain operations until TNI relieves them. Then they'll link back up with us."

"Good," the general nodded before turning to Shepard. "I know you came here all the way from Cronos Station," he went on. "But I'm afraid there's not a lot more the two of us can do here. If you want to, I can have Lieutenant Callius give you a tour of the Capital but as things are, I think our best course of action is for you and the Normandy to link back up with our fleet and plot our next move. I was told you've got a team to recruit."

Emily threw a last glance at the ghost town of Krugerton and etched the sight into her memory.

This right here was why she had to succeed. Thirteen thousand lives altered forever in a single day. There was no way she could allow the Collectors to do this again and again until they got bored, until there were no humans left or until the Reapers showed up and ended both their species.

"You're right, General. Sitting around won't do us any good as long as the Collectors are still out there anyways. We're ready to leave whenever you are."

The white-plated turian nodded his agreement and then turned towards Lieutenant Callius. "If you don't mind, I'll have the lieutenant join you on the Normandy to act as a liaison officer for the time being."

Shepard mustered the turian. She looked pretty old considering that she was 'just' a lieutenant, then again that probably came with her being the leader of Arterius' honor guard. You couldn't exactly have a major guard a general. Her plates were a reddish-brown and her facial marks had the same color and the same shape as Garrus', which already told Emily that she wasn't just from Palaven, but also from its capital city Cipritine.

"I don't mind at all," she said before extending a hand to the Blackwatch soldier. "Welcome aboard, Lieutenant."


Three Hours Later, 18. March 2417 AD, HSASV Normandy, Conference Room

Emily walked through the door and looked around the conference room and realized that the core of her team was all accounted for, having occupied two of the dozen seats.

"At ease," she quickly said when realizing that both Kai and Callius wanted to get up. Then she looked at them and remembered how she had run the last Normandy ground team. "Just to get this out of the way right now, as far as I'm concerned, we can drop stuff like rank and saluting and all those other formalities if it's just us. We're all professionals here, no need to prove it at every turn. Is that okay with you?"

"All good with me, Em," Kai agreed quickly. Not that she had expected anything else. They were friends after all.

"Your ship, your rules, Shepard," Callius added. Then she glanced at the holo-table. "But I assume that we'll keep up with formalities during discussions like this?"

"Yes, of course," Emily nodded. "Speaking of," she went on before turning to the small pedestal in the corner. "Are we ready for the conference call, EDI?" she noticed that her new turian team member didn't do as much as look surprised by that. She suspected that Cerberus had already let Blackwatch know that the Normandy had a little 'extra' installed.

"General Arterius, Director Harper and Major Kirrahe are all ready to begin."

"Kirrahe? What's he got to do with any of this?" she asked for clarification after remembering the salarian from Virmire.

"Major Kirrahe serves as STG's liaison officer for this operation, Commander," EDI replied.

"Blackwatch requested salarian aid as soon as we figured out that the Collectors are behind the disappearances," Callius added. "I'm sure you've been told that this isn't the first time they're preying on a Council species."

"Oh. I knew that we were working with STG," Harper had been clear on that. "I just didn't expect it to be Kirrahe," she added. "Guess it's a small galaxy after all. Put them through EDI."

"Understood, Commander," the not-an-AI, spoke. "Starting the conference call, dimming lights," she went on as the room obeyed her commands and darkened. "Assembling projections," she finished and then turned silent just as three holographic figures, a human, a turian and finally a salarian, appeared around the table.

"General," Harper began.

"Director," Arterius replied before turning to Kirrahe. "Major," he added.

"General," Kirrahe nodded. Finally he looked at Harper. "Director."

"Major," Harper finished. Then all three turned to her.

"Commander," the said in unison before looking at her.

"Director. General. Major," Emily replied after an awkward second of considering in what order to address whom. Introductions like these were exactly why she usually liked to drop rank. After a few moments of silence, the director of Cerberus evidently decided to take charge of this strange four-way chat.

"I was told your discovery turned into a dead end, General. Is that correct?"

"Yes. We weren't able to collect any usable intelligence from the deceased creature," the turian nodded. "I'll still have it delivered to TNI. Maybe they'll get lucky."

"Maybe," Harper said before doing what Emily had grown to expect of him. Start smoking.

"Talking about dead insectoid?" Kirrahe asked while the director inhaled.

"Yes. The one that collided with an agri-drone on Cyrene," Arterius replied.

"Understood," Kirrahe nodded. "Can I make alternative suggestion?"

"That's why you're here, Major," Harper said with a wave of his hand. With the approval given, the major turned to look at Shepard.

"Understand that you intend to recruit Doctor Mordin Solus, is that correct?"

She remembered the name from the dossier. "Yes. Getting him on the Normand is my next priority," she said, already getting out of the way what she intended to do next.

"Solus has unmatched ability for studying and understanding alien life forms," Kirrahe said before his head darted back to Arterius. "Suggest that you let him study creature before sending it to Nanus. If anyone can extract intel relevant to operation from the creature, it's him."

"You know Doctor Solus?" Emily said. The dossier had been sparse. If she could get a first-hand account of what he was like, she'd use this chance.

"Yes. Worked with him on several classified assignment," Kirrahe said. "Extraordinary operative. Unparalleled scientist. Grew to appreciate his talent for applying scientific solutions to military matters," the major said before placing his hand in front of his mouth and muttering something else. "Bit of a cloaca though," still, he seemed to recognize her interest. "Can send you more detailed report on Doctor Solus later if you want to."

"I'd appreciate it," Shepard nodded.

"Good. With that settled, I think it's time that we address the elephant in the room," Harper said, once more taking charge of the conversation. "Since we still don't have any evidence that could help us with locating the Collectors and stopping their attacks, there's not a lot we can do right now other than having Commander Shepard assemble a team and waiting for another colony to go missing," when he was done talking, an uncomfortable silence settled in the room. No one liked to admit it, but it was true. Since the Collectors seemed to have a talent for lighting strikes, they couldn't do anything but react to their actions. And since all of them knew that this was no way to win a war, that knowledge stung.

"We could always increase patrols," General Arterius suggested. "I know the odds are stacked against this strategy, but it's better than doing nothing. Maybe we'll get lucky and end up in the right spot at the right time."

"If the Hierarchy has the ships to spare, I don't see what speaks against doing that."

"We're stretched thin, but I'll see what I can do. Still, I was hoping that more human and salarian ships could join our effort," the turian said. While he picked a neutral way to say it, the way he stressed the 'salarian' part of his request let to Shepard raising an eyebrow. He didn't seem a hundred percent happy with one of his allies.

"I'll send a request to Arcturus, but I can't promise any swift results. Our forces are spread nearly as bad as yours," Harper said to which Desolas nodded his understanding. Then both faced Kirrahe.

"Only Major. Can't make this kind of decision," Kirrahe added. "Can only raise suggestion to superiors."

"Please do," Harper said before pulling on his cigarette and exhaling a cloud of holographic smoke. "And be sure to stress that we can only assume that the Collectors will only increase their effort after being successful on Cyrene. Maybe that'll give STG the push to finally commit to this operation in its entirety."

"Will do my best," the STG major responded before typing something on his omni-tool. "But want to clarify one thing. STG fully committed to stopping Collector attacks on our human allies. Just stretched thing at the time too. Internal matters."

Both the director and the general nodded in response and while Emily was curious what 'internal matters' Kirrahe was talking about, she didn't even bother to do so. Although HSAIS was in love with the term 'classified', STG took it to an entirely different level. From what she had heard, most of their ops were so secret that all reports on them were either sealed away or destroyed as soon as they were completed or weren't even written up to begin with. If not for the visible impact STG had left on the galaxy, no one would even know that they had done anything or that they existed at all.

"That's our plan of operation then. Shepard will assemble her team and while she does that, we'll try to get lucky with our patrols. I think we can work with that until the next abductions happen," Harper stated. The cold certainty with which he said was hard for Emily to ignore after seeing the effects of the abductions on Cyrene. But since she couldn't come up with any alternative solutions, she recognized that this was their only viable move and, in turn, also recognized that the success of their plan rested on her building a team that could take what little they had and somehow turn that into a victory.

And while the abductions weren't as bad as having to stop a galactic cataclysm, Emily once more felt the familiar weight of the world on her shoulders.

Evidently even death couldn't change certain things.

"I'll head for the Omega right away," she declared.

"And Blackwatch will trail right behind you," Arterius added. "The Parnack is no Normandy SR-2, but we can still fly under the radar like you. We'll hang behind, just in case you need us." While she wasn't going to say it right now, she was grateful to hear that. Having a ship full of Blackwatch operatives as her back-up was certainly reassuring.

"Will notify STG assets on Omega of your arrival," Kirrahe said next, "And prepare file on Doctor Solus,"

"Good," Harper finished. "Let's get to work."


19. March 2417 AD, Citadel, Final Wave Headquarters

"Gunn!" someone called through the office. A second later Morneau looked up from his working place and spotted the source. It was his boss, a former cabal called Toran Aganian. Alongside his asari colleague, he ran the division that 'Solomon Gunn' had been recruited into and as such, he had traded in his armor for what passed as a turian white tailored suit with a small three-pronged red star pinned to his color.

"Over here," Morneau replied.

"Get in here," Aganian waved, before gesturing for his office. The undercover operative locked his terminal and did as he was told. He crossed through the open office, past his colleagues, and entered the office. "Take a seat," the turian went on after he had reached the separated office. Like the rest of the building, its floor was made of expensive wood and its walls were colored in a dull white that was easier on the eyes than the metal-grey that was so common to the Citadel. Furthermore, in a very un-turian fashion, it was also filled with decorations and commendations from both the turian military and the Final Wave. One of them stood out, a flag encased in a glass case right behind Aganian's desk. It was a blue piece of cloth with curved, golden letters. Since the contact lenses that interfaced with his translator turned the curved writing into a '22nd Palavani', Morneau assumed that the flag was the banner of the legion the turian had served in before going private.

"I know what you're thinking," Aganian commented after Morneau sat down. "And no, you're not in trouble," he hadn't been thinking that. If that had been the case, he probably would've shot his way out of the office by now. "Quite the opposite actually. You remember the last op you helped with?"

"The one on Kosh?"

"Yes," Aganian nodded.

"And?"

"And it went down flawlessly yesterday."

"So he got his man?" Morneau asked with faked surprise. He already knew the answer, of course. His Section 13 contact on the Citadel had already informed him. That was the advantage of having another undercover operative on the station, they could assist each other with things like this and not draw any attention to themselves.

"Yes. Needlessly to say, our client is very happy with the result."

"I'm happy to hear that." Unlike everything else, that wasn't a lie or a deception. The client was the reason why he had taken an interest this operation. Although he hadn't been named as such, the operation fit the pattern of most of the assassinations and kidnappings the Final Wave had orchestrated for the Shadow Broker in the past.

"Then I'm also sure that you'll be happy to hear this too," Aganian said before reaching into his desk and pulling out a small, white, triangular plate. A data drive most likely. "I mentioned how crucial your work was in making sure the op on Kosh turned out the way it did and someone up in management listened. They think you've got potential, Gunn, and now they want you to prove it. Go ahead, run your omni over the drive." He did as he was told and made a copy of the data, it was a new contract. "This is a huge chance. Spirits know you earned it."

He flew over the text and picked out the most important keywords.

Apparently, he was to go to Kosh again. Only this time around, he wasn't going to conduct reconnaissance like the last time. He was supposed to lead a strike team for their client on a mission against one of the planets mining conglomerates. From what he read, its CEO had 'violated' an agreement with their client and now he wanted the Final Wave to teach them a lesson. But the 'how' he wanted them to that would only be revealed once they took the job and arrived on Kosh.

"In case you need any more convincing, there's some extra money in it as well. Outside of the normal contract fee," Aganian threw in a bit more quietly, likely believing Morneau's pause to be the product of hesitation, not consideration.

"How so?" the undercover operative replied.

"This particular client has been with us for a long time. He usually pays the operatives an additional bonus upon completion to make sure his exclusive relationship with us is maintained," Aganian explained.

"You mean to keep us from taking job against him, right?" Morneau muttered and the turian nodded his response. While he didn't let it show, he was getting excited. The odds of this being the Broker climbed with every word Aganian spoke.

"I get it. Jobs like these aren't for everyone. I didn't warm up to them for years. But still, I suggest you take some time and think about it. It's a huge opportunity."

"I'll do it," Morneau said. When he looked up from his omni, he saw that the former cabal was smirking.

"I knew I could count on you, Gunn," Aganian offered before the terminal in front of him flashed yellow. Instinctively Morneau's eyes darted to the reflective glass panel, allowing him a glance at the message. While the actual content was far too small to read, he did manage to catch the topic of the message.

Project Group Insight.

He had been with the Final Wave for months and that was the first time he had ever heard of such a 'project group'. Immediately he got suspicious and made a mental note to look into it. Then, after a second of silence, he went on to play his role again. He got up, pretended he hadn't seen anything and smiled at the turian.

"I aim to please," he said. "I take it I've got the usual two days off to settle my affairs?" he went on. That was just one of the many advantages he had noticed between his current fake life and his actual one. With Section 13 there was no such thing as settling one's affairs and enjoying downtime before leaving for a mission. If HSAIS needed him to go somewhere, he dropped everything and left, no questions asked.

"Corporate policy," Aganian replied before typing on his terminal. "Now, I hate to throw you out, but-" he began.

"Work calls," Morneau figured.

"Exactly. No rest for the wicked management," the turian sighed before throwing him a final smile. "Enjoy your time off, Gunn."

"Always," Morneau nodded. Then he went back to his desk, logged himself out, packed his things and got ready to leave. Just as he was about to step into the elevator, his omni buzzed. He now had a first-class ticket to Kosh and was listed as a guest for one of its most luxurious hotels, all at the cost of the client. Like a lot of times in the last six months, he could see why people went into the private sector. The perks were written all over the place, starting with the paycheck and going all the way to being able to plan things like vacations and family time. And sure, while some might argue that one had to sell your morality before they could become a merc, that was an issue Morneau would never have if he ever felt like changing careers. He crossed lines for a living and up to now the Final Wave hadn't asked him to do something that came close to being even half as morally ambiguous as some of the things he had done as a specialist.

Before he could finish his line of thought, his omni-tool interrupted him with a new message. This time around it was from Wong. After reading its content, he smiled, responded that he'd show up earlier and closed the application just in time for the elevator doors to open. He stepped into the lobby, said his good byes to the receptionist and walked out into the perfect, artificial late-summer warmth of a typical Presidium noon, which clashed all too harshly with the dark gray hallways, electric lights and strict eighteen degrees regulation-climate he got when he 'got off work' back on Cronos Station. He continued his walk to the Final Wave-sponsored apartment and finished his line of thought while crossing through crowds made up of the Citadel's rich and beautiful. Like he had said, it was easy to understand why people like Aganian made the decision to go into the private sector. When compared to a legion's basecamp or any other army base, even the Presidium's 'bad spots' won hands down. But just because he could see the 'why' didn't mean that any part of him wanted to follow in their step. Not only would he never fit in, if he was ever meant to live a normal life his time in Section 13 had made sure that wouldn't ever happen, he also wouldn't be able to sit around and play pretend like everyone else around him did.

As he watched people go about their day as carefree as usual in places where hundreds of C-SEC officers and the Citadel-Fleet soldiers sent to reinforce them had died two years ago, he remembered the Reapers. With the Reapers, he remembered his first encounter with husks on Akuze. Going from there, the suppressed desire to tell Rei that what he was doing here would be pointless when, not if, the Reapers found their way to the Milky Way surfaced. He climbed the stairs and entered a discussion with the part of him that knew it wasn't his place to question what assignment he got but his duty to complete the to perfection.

Setting aside his loyalty to his job, the doubts he was feeling were justified, weren't they? What use would stopping the Shadow Broker have if every living, breathing human got harvested a few years down the road? So, instead of pretending to be someone he wasn't just so Task Force Light Bringer could finally say 'we got him', why wasn't someone with his skills being used to find a way to stop the Reapers? He knew that he wasn't a scientist who'd find the answer to stopping the reapers. But still, considering what they were up against, there was no reason why every spy, soldier, Spectre, merc and otherwise talented fighter in the galaxy shouldn't be pooled together to prepare for the upcoming fight instead of running politically valuable but ultimately pointless errands like this one.

With a sigh, he reached for his keys and opened the door to his apartment building. Then he climbed the stairs and recognized the futility of his internal discussion.

It didn't matter what he thought about his assignment or if he felt like his talents were being wasted considering the bigger picture. He had a job to do here, one that required his entire focus. Since he was undercover all it took was one slip-up to ruin everything and internal turmoil like the one he was experiencing right now was among the highest risk-factors. He could complain and argue all he wanted when he got back to Cronos Station and a part of him figured that that'd be exactly what he was going to do. He slit the keycard over the lock of his apartment door and stepped in. Then he spotted the pair of shoes standing in the entrance area and took a breath. But as long as he was here and assuming the identity of Solomon Gunn, there was no place in his life for questioning his duties or being distracted by personal attachments.

Speaking of.

"Hey you," he greeted Wong. The woman put her tablet aside, got off from the couch and closed in on him.

"Hey you too," she said before wrapping her arms around him. The specialist closed his eyes, opened a box in his mind, put the feelings Solomon Gunn had for Emily Wong inside and locked them away before they could overwrite the rational, mission-focused thoughts of Daniel Morneau. When he was done, he continued to play his part as the marine-turned-mercenary and repeated a mantra in his head.

Day 168.


One Day Later, 2158 CE, Talarila

"He did what?" Tali asked for a second time, still in disbelief.

"Annoyed," the elcor in front of her stated before getting to the actual part of her reply. "As I said before. He left with the human separatists. I saw him board the ship myself."

"Knew we couldn't trust the bosh'tet," Reegar, the marine her admiral father had assigned to 'accompany' her ever since she had returned from her pilgrimage, muttered. As she looked at him, he seemed to notice that he had been a bit louder than he had meant to. But true to the man she had gotten to know him as, he didn't take back what he had said. While the young quarian was less than happy to have a bodyguard, she at least appreciated that she received one who wasn't afraid to speak his mind. Considering how careful most people acted around her, an admiral's daughter, it was refreshing to be around one who didn't seem to care.

"I don't get it," she said with a sigh. "He does every job flawlessly and then he just leaves? Why?"

"If you ask me, it sounds like he figured your new job proposal was a bit too much for him, took our money and hitched the first ride of the planet he could find."

Tali cursed under her breath as the reply of the marine made her remember that they had already paid the human a part of the reward. Although she was working under the Special Projects Fleet and had, by the standards of the Migrant Fleet, vast resources at her disposal, the operational liberty she had would be withdrawn pretty quickly once it became evident to her boss that she was spending credits but not producing any results in return.

"Earnest," the female elcor injected. "I always knew a drifter like him wouldn't stay on Talarila. Only few people can endure it here in the long run," she took a pause. "Eager. I believe you mentioned a reward when you approached me."

Tali rolled her eyes under her helmet. But she wasn't one to go back on her promises. So she reached into one of the many pockets of her suit. "Here. Thank you for talking to us," she told the elcor and slid the credits across the table, turning around before she could see how exactly the large alien planned on picking up the tiny credit chit.

"So what do we do now?" Reegar asked as they took their leave from the porter's office.

"Report back to my father," Tali replied. "He won't be pleased to hear that our helper on Talarila became a terrorist, but he'll still know what to do," she said with certainty. She was after all talking about her father. He always had the answers, even when presented with a problem as existential as the one that had led her to this desert; the threat of a second Geth War.

Ever since their exodus, their synthetic creations had left the quarians, and the rest of the galaxy, largely alone. After forcing them off of Rannoch, the geth had withdrawn into the self-made isolation of what had once been the Conclave home space beyond the Perseus Veil and, besides a few exceptions, stayed there.

But ever since the attack on the Citadel, which Tali had only survived unscathed thanks to being at the right place, the HSA's embassy, with the right people, the HSA's ambassador and his security detail, something fundamentally had changed in their behavior. After their first large fleet had been defeated during the Battle of the Citadel, the geth were leaving the Veil and setting foot on planets in the Terminus. While they were only doing so in small numbers right now, the Admiralty of the Migrant Fleet believed that what they were observing right now was just a scouting force meant to prepare a much larger, much more dangerous geth expansion beyond the Veil. And that was exactly what had them spooked enough to give permission to something that had been forbidden ever since the quarrian exodus from Rannoch, studying 'living' geth. To achieve that task, handpicked teams from all branches of the Migrant Fleet had been formed and sent into the Terminus themselves with the mission to chase after their rogue creations, understand their plan and, if possible, foil it before it could threaten the quarrian people. Considering how her operation had fared, Tali could only hope that the other teams had been more successful. With another sigh, the young quarrian climbed into their vehicle, a 'borrowed' dust buggy, dropped into the passenger seat next to Reegar and rested her head against the poorly patted metal seat.

She needed to do good, njust to make up for the fact that she, an admiral's daughter, hadn't brought anything back form her pilgrimage other than two near-death experiences, but also for the greater good. If the geth intended to leave the Veil, the fate of the Fleet may very well depend on the success of her father's mission. So unless she wanted to have the blood of what remained of her people on her hands, she simply had to succeed here.

"Don't give yourself a hard time over Vega, Ma'am," the marine lieutenant to her left suddenly offered. She looked at him and wondered how he could tell what was going on. When he risked a glance to the right before focusing on the dusty pathway in front of them again, she quickly looked away. While there wasn't any traffic they could run into, the sand was still treacherous, partially because of the large worms that lived in it but also because of the burrow holes they left in the dunes after moving on to other hunting grounds. Hence, she wanted him to focus on the road. Yes. That was definitely the reason. It had nothing to do with embarrassment. "Sometimes you can do everything right and still fail. That's just the way things are. It doesn't make you a bad leader. What does is what you do with your failures."

"What do you mean, Lieutenant?" she asked as they cruised through the flat desert.

"Good leaders accept that they made a mistake and learn from it. Bad ones don't and keep making the same mistakes until it kills them or everyone they lead," he shrugged behind the wheel. Then he risked another glance after making sure that there were no other obstacles in their way. "You can cheer up though. You just lost money to a human bosh'tet. The last person I served under that was a bad leader made a lot of good marines die for no reason. So as far as I'm concerned, you're doing just fine. Especially considering that this is your first command."

"I hadn't thought about it that way," she replied honestly.

"Which makes it another lesson you can learn from. My last bad leader only ever saw her own results, not the people that died to achieve them. No matter what you do, don't ever end up like her, alright?" Reegar replied.

Now Tali was curious. She nodded her approval and then she gave in to her curiosity.

"What happened?"

"Do you want the short version or the long one?"

Tali glanced at the map in the center console of the dust buggy. They were nearly back at their base of operations, if one could call the inn they had rented a base.

"I think the short version will suffice."

"We were sent on a mission, the risk was high, but so was the reward. As things usually go with critical ops, there was barely any time to do recon when we got there. So it was either go in blind or don't go in at all and let the opportunity slip through our hands. I was all for the latter, said that it was too dangerous and told my captain that there was no way I could win without losing at least half of my platoon. My superior wasn't convinced. She pulled ranked and told me that marines either followed orders or got exiled. Being the fool I was I got intimidated by it and obeyed her. In the end, my instincts were right. When the fighting was done, half my unit was dead and just about everyone else was injured or had suit ruptures. But since we achieved our objective, she didn't bat an eye, took us back to the Fleet and never looked back at us ever again."

Tali didn't know what to say, so instead she just kept asking questions.

"What was your objective?"

"I'm afraid I can't talk about that, Ma'am."

"Fine," she understood that. "But can you at least tell me who you served under back then? So that I have a reference as to who I don't want to be."

"Sure. Back then she was just Captain Daro'Xen," Reegar began, his disdain for the quarrian evident in his voice. "But I don't think I need to say anything else. You know her, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," Tali said quickly and presumably recognizably nervous. She hoped that it sounded like she knew her because of her father and not because Admiral Xen was the head of Special Projects and the same person that her father was working with for this mission. While she assumed that Reegar would be fine with hearing who their superior was working with as long as Xen wasn't the one directly in charge of him, Tali also didn't feel like figuring out if her assumption was on point. She liked Reegar. He was direct, competent and, most importantly, didn't treat her like she held her father's rank. She wanted to keep it that way. Hence, that part of their assignment would stay her secret.

At least for now.

After the conversation about Xen, the drive back to the inn continued mostly in silence. As did the unpacking of their gear and storing of their vehicle. Only when she reached the floor that her team had rented out as their base of operations and made contact with the Migrant Fleet to report on what had happened with Vega did something noteworthy happen.

"Tali. Good. I was just about to contact you," her father greeted, seemingly in rush.

"Admiral Zora," she replied with her own greeting. While it was weird to act like they weren't related, the young quarrian knew that doing anything else would smell of nepotism to her entire team. Even if they weren't in the room with her, she wasn't going to take the chance of any of them eavesdropping on her. Next she steadied herself to deliver the bad news. After a few seconds, she had enough courage and opened her mouth. "There's something you have to know. It's about our human contact-"

"Whatever it is, it will have to wait. Are you alone right now?" he asked with an unusual sense of nervousness.

"Yes. What's going on?"

"Listen to me. I need your team to pack up their things and leave Talarila right away. Go to Freedom's Progress."

"Freedom's what?" she replied, confused. Her father sounded spooked, but she wouldn't dare to say that out loud or ask him why. She was simultaneously worried that it'd shatter her view of him and afraid of how he might react. Being an admiral meant that he wasn't all that used to people questioning him, especially not if he had raised them.

"Freedom's Progress," he repeated. "It's a human colony deep in the Traverse. You're closer to it than anyone else so it shouldn't take you more than a week to reach it," he went on, his speech pace far quicker than usual and bordering on a salarian level. "Once you're there, look for a pilgrim named Veetor'Nara and take him back to the Migrant Fleet. I'll send you our current position when you have him," for a second, the hologram of her father looked over his shoulder. Then he went on. "Listen to me Tali, no matter what you might hear from Veetor or other people, it is vital that you bring him straight to me. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, of course" she said quickly, ignoring the question that her mind was begging her mouth to speak.

'Why Veetor? What could he possibly know that was more important than figuring out if the geth intended to wipe out the Fleet and finish what they had started three hundred years ago? And why only to you? What are you trying to hide?'

Just as the desire to ask them started to grow stronger, her father continued and silenced it.

"I knew I could trust you, my daughter," he said proudly, "There is one more thing you need to know about this mission, Tali."

"What is it?"

"No matter what happens, Xen can't know what you're doing. Turn of your transponder and make up reports if you have to but do not, under any circumstances, tell her what you're doing. The survival of the Fleet might depend on it. Do you understand?" she hesitated and like always, he sensed it and got pushy. "Do you understand, Tali?"

"I understand, father."


Codex: HSA Influence in the Skyllian Verge

The human relationship with the independent colonies in the Skyllian Verge and the Attican Traverse can best be described as one of mutual benefit and natural progression of what started out as a regular trade partnership.

Following the power vacuum left by the Human-Mercenary-Intervention (See Entry 'Human-Mercenary-Intervention'), the independent planets in the Verge were put into a position they hadn't been in since the end of the Krogan Rebellions, they faced existential crisis. With Eclipse's protection gone and slaver bands on the rise, the colonies turned to Arcturus for protection and, after the end of the Skyllian Blitz proved the human dominance and military superiority over slaver bands and batarian forces and gave Arcturus the necessary confidence to accept the proposal, received it. From there on out, the HSA became known as the 'Wardens of the Verge'.

While viewed as a mostly benevolent gesture, there was another, purely financially motivated reason that assured that the HSA had an interest in maintaining positive relations with the independent colonies. Due to the Attican Relay Anomaly (See Entry 'Attican Relay Anomaly'), trade between the core of HSA space and the rest of Council space was plagued by delays, high effort and minimal profit. This assured that the independent worlds surrounding the HSA, which were close enough to the developed colonies of the Fringe to the point where the delays caused by the anomaly became negatable, became a vital connection between humanity and the rest of the galaxy.

Considering this mutually beneficial relationship, the step that followed in 2415 AD was only logical. After what the CIP, the Confederation of Independent Planets, which formed in the wake of the geth attack on the Citadel, simply referred to as the 'Great Trouble', occurred, another request was extended. To protect them from the geth and similar aggressors, the members of the CIP desired garrisons of HSA Army forces on their planets. In return, the tax that the HSA, and everyone else outside the confederation, had to pay would be lowered for human traders. Given the financial crisis that hit Council Space after the attack on the Citadel and the galaxy-wide mobilization that followed in its wake, Arcturus accepted the deal almost immediately, which in turn lead to the planning and execution of Operation Sentinel.

Public response was not as positive as expected. (See Entry 'Operation Sentinel)


A/N:

I did it again guys. I managed to update after spending a month dicking around.

So first off, it's just another set-up chapter.

But since I know by now that you don't mind, I won't apologize for it.

Furthermore, there's not a lot I have to say for this chapter other than it did a bit of world and plot building to get you and Shepard up to speed with what happened inthe two years she was basically dead.

but I do have something to say outside of the story.

I wish all of you happy holidays, no matter what you celebrate, and hope that you transition nicely into the new decade.

I'm not under the impression that I'll manage to update SV before the 31.12 so yeah. I had to get that out of the way.

FURTHERMORE: (IMPORTANT!)

I have another small-ish thing I wanna talk about here for a minute.

A year ago, I wrote the first Anthology Story for Semper Vigilo, Hazard Pay (which you can find on my profile, btw). I did NOT give up on that sideproject. Another story by me, and one by an associate who has also been a big help in Semper Vigilo's development, AdmiralSakai, is in the making and they will, EVENTUALLY, be made public to you.

While I failed to keep the promise I made when I wrote Hazard Pay, which was that I'd write one or two stories for it each year, I'm still committed to expanding on the SV:Universe (does that sound obnoxious? It feels like it sounds obnoxious.)

Hence I can only encourage you all to hop on over to my profile, click on SV:Anthologies and give Hazard Pay a read. I'd go as far as saying that it's actually kind of plot relevant because it's about the origin story of the FInal Wave. To cut things short and to help you decide whether or not you're interest, the shortest, spoiler-free description I can give is: 'turian spectre turned merc fights in the Morning Wars' and 'a story about discovering your family history, PG-18!'

Furthermore I do plan to at least release one other Anthology in early to mid 2020, which as of right now is being written under the working title "On Wings of Glory"

To give you a small teaser of what I'm doing there and what you can look forward to when I get off my ass and actually finish it, I'll give you this suitable description:

It's about the Red Baron but he's salarian and an asshole and he lives during the krogan rebellions.

Yeah.

So anyways, go ahead and hop into Hazard Pay to better understand where the Final Wave came from (and to read what I consider to be one of my better displays of writing skill. I know that it sounds cocky but I feel like I did a really good job with it) and have an amazing last week of the decade.

For the record, we're at 627 reviews, 981 favorites and 1081 follows.

See you around next time.