For a moment, when Val Shepard woke up, she thought the whole night might have been a dream. Getting caught. Spilling out her story, Liara. All of it.
Then she moved, and her headache flared. It felt like there was scrap metal rattling around inside her skull, sharp and heavy. Sitting up as carefully as she could, she pressed her hands to either side of her head. The pressure eased the tension a little, but a deep ache remained, throbbing through her sinuses and down the back of her neck. Opening her eyes, she could see the greenish bruises on her wrists, already faded, but still present, silent testimony to the time she'd spent cuffed the night before.
Resting her head in her hands, Val took several deep breaths and considered her options. She could go to the brass. Coats would listen to her, she was fairly sure. She could tell him an edited version of what had happened. If he believed her, she could get Alex thrown out of camp only days after he'd arrived. Accusing Garrus might even crimp relations between the Alliance and the Hierarchy.
On the other hand, if Coats didn't believe her, he could send her to lockup, or a psychiatric ward. Neither option sounded desirable.
She couldn't even blame either Alex or Garrus for what she'd done. If she had reason to suspect that someone she knew was a Cerberus plant, or indoctrinated, or worse, she'd have done the same.
What would Commander Shepard do? Val asked herself, and laughed, soundlessly. She might be Commander Shepard, all right, but with no one to command, that didn't do her much good.
She took an aspirin for the headache, and rolled her sleeves down over her bruised wrists before she left her quarters.
Mama's eagle eye didn't miss much, though; she greeted Val at breakfast with "What's the matter? You look awful."
"Good morning to you, too, Mama," Val sighed.
"I mean it!" Mama leaned closer and took hold of Val's chin, tipping it toward herself for a better look. "Are you eating right?"
"Mama!" Val jerked her head away in irritation. "You know what I eat. I eat most of my meals with you. I just didn't sleep that well." A lie, if only a partial one. Once Val had fallen asleep, she'd slept deep and dreamless, wrung out by exhaustion. It just hadn't been enough sleep after last night's ordeals.
"Oh." Mama settled back in her seat with a frown and tucked into her breakfast. "You know, there are good counselors around if you need it."
It's not PTSD, Val wanted to say. Instead she said, "I know, Mama," and shoved a forkful of reconstituted eggs into her mouth. Missing dinner the night before had made her ravenous, so she'd loaded up her plate as much as she could.
Her mother sniffed but let it drop, and they ate in silence, surrounded by the clatter of utensils and other people's conversation, until Mama said brightly, "There you are! Good morning, Sasha!"
Val stiffened and looked up warily at Alex, who took the seat next to Mama. "G'morning, Mama. Val."
"Good morning," she answered. Alex looked almost as bad as she did, pale and tight-lipped, with dark circles bruise-like under his eyes. His gaze met hers for a second, and he nodded quickly before looking away.
"That's not a real breakfast," Mama said. Val glanced at Alex's tray, which contained a mug of coffee and a bowl of what the Alliance claimed was oatmeal and nothing else.
"It's fine. I'm fine." Alex picked up the mug and drained half of it.
Mama sniffed again and muttered something in Russian. Alex seemed disinclined to talk, so Val decided she was better off ignoring both of them and went back to eating as quickly as she could.
As the three of them sat, in a silence that now felt stiff and awkward, a commotion erupted, a clamor of raised voices near the entrance to the mess hall. All around the room, heads turned toward the noise, a ripple of movement and murmured confusion passing down the long tables like a wave.
"The relays are back!" someone shouted, and the whole room erupted.
"What?" a few people shouted back. Others were exclaiming in jubilation, hugging or slapping each other on the back. A couple people, here and there, had burst into tears. Other people seemed to be arguing, waving their hands and bending toward each other.
"How?" someone demanded, and someone else shouted back: "The Reapers! They fixed them."
That dampened the excitement, but only a little bit. A few more people started crying, and several of the arguments got louder.
Val stared toward the entrance in shock. She felt frozen in place; it took her a moment to realize that she was still gripping her fork in one hand, the metal hard against her palm. Across the table, Alex stared back at her, equally stunned, wariness and suspicion driven out by surprise. For one second they seemed to be on the same page.
Val's omni-tool was pinging, she realized. Across the table, Mama was frowning at her own omni-tool, her fingers rapidly scrolling through her messages. Feeling like she was moving in slow motion, Val checked her own.
The new message blinking on Val's omni-tool was a bland official notification from the Alliance that the mass relay network was active again, restoring normal transport to the galaxy, and all active duty personnel should stand by for orders. Val stared at the message, still stunned.
Normal. There was nothing normal about the Reapers repairing the mass relays. Could this really be a step toward something better? Or was it just a piece of another insidious Reaper plot? The mass relays had been a trap all along, Val remembered, and the Citadel, too. Her hands closed into fists.
"I have to go," Mama announced, standing up quickly.
"What?" Val asked, startled out of her thoughts.
"Where are you going?" Alex asked.
"The office," she said. "We already have ships lining up at the relay, shuttles wanting to land, and there aren't enough places to put people. Go on, eat, I'll see you later."
Mama left before Val could say anything more. Appetite suddenly dried up, she poked her fork into the remains of her breakfast and glanced warily at Alex.
"Well. I guess the Reapers really are our new friends," he said.
"Do you really believe that?" Val asked sharply.
Alex shrugged. "They killed billions of people. It's going to take more than a couple good deeds before I trust them."
"Good," she said, and forced herself to take another bite of eggs.
Alex fiddled with his spoon and gulped down his coffee, not looking at her. Hunched over his meager breakfast, he looked more haunted than threatening. Val could have felt sorry for him, if she could have put the night before out of her mind. Instead, she felt a growing thread of frustration with him, almost anger. She understood why he'd done it. But she couldn't help wanting to shake him. On top of that, he and Garrus had sidelined her, and she desperately wanted to know what they'd been talking about.
Val swallowed her mouthful and decided to chance it. "So, do you have a plan yet?"
Alex's eyes shifted right, left, anywhere but at her. After a second of silence, he said, "I need to talk to Vakarian."
Val blew out a breath. "Right." She waited, but apparently he wasn't going to say anything more. The hell with it; she'd eaten enough, Val decided, and started to get up.
"Listen—" Alex said.
"What?" Standing, she looked down at him as he opened his mouth, and then shook his head and shut it, eyes shifting away.
"Nothing."
Val waited for a second, but Alex seemed determined to do nothing but stare silently into his coffee. They really might as well be strangers, she reflected bitterly, and walked away.
Outside the mess tent, the hubbub continued. The narrow dirt paths between the camps' buildings were clogged now with knots of people. Someone staring intently at their omni-tool's screen projector nearly collided with Val, offering an absent-minded "Sorry" without looking up.
"What are you doing?" Val asked, nonplussed.
"Trying to see if there's any word on the Franklin," he explained, frowning at his 'tool. "I'd go ask at HQ, but..." He jerked his head to the side by way of explanation.
Val followed the gesture and looked over toward HQ. Her eyebrows shot up as she took in the size of the crowd congested there, dozens of people waving for attention or calling out names of ships or colonies. A couple of harried clerks were trying to wrangle people into some kind of orderly line. Val edged in the opposite direction, wanting nothing more than to get some space between herself and the frantic crowd. She could almost smell the anxiety in the air, disturbingly reminiscent of the last few times she'd been on the Citadel, when the aura of desperation and fear had been palpable.
A shuttle roared overhead, its blue and white paint chipped and scorched; Val, along with half a dozen under people, ducked at the sudden noise. Ten or so people ran after it, probably hoping to catch it at when it landed. Their departure opened up space, though the paths were still crowded with clusters of people. Val started toward her training facility, overhearing snatches of conversation as she passed.
"Mostly I'd like to find my sister—"
"I'm telling you, it's actually an asari plot—"
"—haven't heard from my fiance in months—"
"—at least all the aliens can go home now—"
"—don't care what anyone says, those Reapers have to be up to something—"
Val grimaced as the last comment mirrored her own thoughts. Having mass relay travel restored ought to be a good thing, so people could get home and find their loved ones, but she couldn't help seeing it as some kind of trap.
Getting through the crowds was taking forever, too. Most of the camp had obviously decided to throw routine out the window. Val had a feeling she was going to have a lot of no-shows at today's scheduled training sessions.
Abruptly, a cacophony of electronic beeps went off. All the omni-tools and vidscreens Val could see flashed at once, and a message started playing. The screens stayed blank, playing only the audio: a deep, resonant voice that was probably supposed to sound soothing.
What it said made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
"Greetings, citizens of the galaxy. The mass relay network has been repaired for your use. You may resume normal travel. We welcome the restoration of normal routine."
The words were innocuous, but there was no doubt in Val's mind that she was listening to a Reaper. For a moment, her breath came short and her pulse pounded. She swallowed hard, concentrating on taking slow, deep breaths.
Around her, a babble of conversation broke out. From the sounds of it, most people weren't finding the announcement any more reassuring than Val did. She could hear a couple of people trying to argue that the Reapers must have had a change of heart, but they seemed drowned out by a whirl of questions and protests.
If she were the Commander Shepard, Val reflected sourly, she probably would have felt obligated to do or say something to improve morale. Stand up and reassure people, or promise to find answers, or something.
Instead, she ducked her head and pushed her way through the crowd, closing her ears to the conversations she passed as best she could. She made it all the way to the training facility in a blur, and stood staring at the closed door for a moment. Screw it, she decided. There was no point in trying to train today. Biotics needed to focus and concentrate, not be distracted by the day's speculations and hopes.
She tapped the electronic lock, intending to put in a message in case anyone stopped by. Her omni-tool's beeping interrupted her.
Val looked around warily, but hers was the only 'tool sounding this time. Looking down, she realized it was signaling a voice call.
From Garrus.
Val hesitated. She would have expected Coats calling her in for something, or maybe her mother. Garrus... there wasn't much that Garrus could possibly be calling to talk to her about, except last night.
"Shepard here," she answered, warily.
"Listen, we need to talk."
Garrus's voice on the other end was familiar, warm and deep, slightly fuzzed from the electronic transmission. Val swallowed down a lump in her throat, and her voice came out sharp. "Yeah? What about?"
"I've had an idea," he said. "About our dilemma of last night."
Val took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She didn't blame them for their actions. Couldn't, if she looked at the situation clear-eyed, like an outsider. But she couldn't help a pang of hurt, even of betrayal, all the same. And she sure as hell wasn't about to walk into another trap. "Forgive me if I'd rather not go anywhere alone with either of you."
"Wouldn't expect you to," Garrus said. "Meet me at the bar, though?"
Hearing that phrase made her feel light-headed. Garrus was saying something else, but the words blurred together. Val pressed her free hand against the door, cool and flat and hard against her palm, and took another deep breath to ground herself. "What, now?"
"I said, if that's all right. There are always people there."
"Have you talked to Alex?"
"He agrees with me that we should talk. All three of us."
Val straightened and looked around at the camp, at the knots of anxious and arguing people she could see. She had no appetite to stay there among the frantic worry and speculation. "All right. I'll be there. I guess I'm not doing anything else."
Even though the bar was familiar territory, Val felt tense as a strung wire when she entered, and scanned the room warily. The tightness in her shoulders eased when she realized there were several other clusters of people huddled around the tables. The murmured conversations she could hear had an anxious undertone, just like in the camp outside, but here, the talk seemed quieter, and calmer. If the place had been totally empty, she might have walked out, but with others present — a handful of humans, a few turians, a couple asari — Val felt secure enough to join Garrus and Alex at the back corner table.
"I've been thinking," Garrus said as soon as she sat down. "We don't have to decide between taking Liara's word and taking yours. We could talk to Javik."
"Who's Javik?" Alex asked.
Val stared at Garrus in shock as he answered, "He's a Prothean."
"Really?" Alex slouched back in his chair, looking surprised. "I'd heard a rumor about finding a live Prothean, but I wasn't sure I believed it."
"Oh, he's real," Garrus said. "Surly as hell, but a born warrior... why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, turning to Val.
"Last night you said you didn't know who Javik was," she burst out. After everything else that had happened the night before, the idea that Garrus might have openly lied to her shouldn't bother her so much, and yet it felt like a gut punch, leaving her shocked and indignant.
"No, I didn't, I—" Garrus froze for a second, head tilted, unblinking. Val stared back at him, and Alex leaned forward, the front legs of his chair hitting the ground with a thump.
"Garrus?" Val asked, her irritation turning to worry.
"I did, didn't I?" Garrus said slowly. He shook his head. "I don't know why I would have said that. I can't — I didn't even remember that, until you said it. I'd just been thinking, all day, that I didn't know why it had never occurred to me to talk to Javik."
"There was a lot going on last night, but that's weird," Alex said slowly. His eyes narrowed in calculation.
Garrus's mandibles twitched. He shook his head. "Yeah."
"Have you been around the orb at all?" Val demanded.
"Not since we brought it in," Garrus said.
"Are you sure?" she pressed.
He opened his mouth and stopped, mandibles flickering again.
"I'm sure," Alex said. "I have the access code to the secure container. There's no log of anyone opening it between the time you brought it in and the time I was assigned to it. Hell, I've barely opened the container myself."
"All right," Val said grudgingly.
"Why would it be the orb?" Alex asked. "Suppose I decide to believe you that the thing enables mind control. I've seen no proof of that, but let's allow it as a hypothesis. Why would your Leviathan care about this Javik, or introducing this weird little memory glitch for Vakarian?"
Val frowned. Try as she might, she couldn't come up with anything. Especially since Garrus had remembered Javik in the end. "I don't know," she admitted. "But you have to admit, him forgetting Javik's existence entirely, and then remembering the next day, is weird."
Alex shrugged, though he was still frowning. "Memory is a strange and complicated thing. People forget details all the time." He sounded defensive, like he might be trying to convince himself.
"Javik is not someone you forget," Val said firmly.
Across the table, Garrus nodded. "She's right about that."
"Thanks," Val said dryly.
"No problem," Garrus replied, glancing at her. If she wasn't mistaken, there was a flash of dry humor in his eyes. "We do have a different problem, though, which is that Javik is not a free agent."
Val frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I think the Alliance was afraid he might incite a public disturbance of some kind," Garrus said. His talons tapped on the table, one-two-three. "He didn't take the, ah, outcome of the war well."
Shepard took that in and stiffened, her stomach lurching. She remembered Javik's austere, relentless fury well; she could only imagine his rage at any outcome that did not involve the complete destruction of the Reapers. To tell the truth, a little of that rage simmered under her skin, too, especially when she thought of Javik locked away to keep him quiet.
Alex said, "So what are you saying? That we have to break into an Alliance jail to get to this guy?"
"Officially, it's protective custody," Garrus said, still fidgeting. "And it's not breaking in, exactly. I know Javik; he should be willing to talk to me. But I don't have official authorization to do so." He looked at Val. "Your rank might actually come in handy here, Staff Commander."
His gaze seemed to pierce her. Shepard realized what he intended in half a heartbeat. "You want us to bluff our way in."
"Do any of us really want to go through official channels? They'll want an explanation."
Val glanced at Alex, and then back at Garrus. She certainly wasn't eager to manufacture a lie for the Alliance. Not one that would be on record, at least.
"If we go now," Garrus said, "there's a good chance we'll slip through the cracks. Communications are overloaded as it is. It'll be easy to pretend orders got lost somewhere."
"So you do want me to go somewhere alone with you, after all," Val pointed out, a touch of acid entering her voice.
"We'll be in public the whole time," Garrus said. His gaze stayed intent on her, his brow plates tilting up.
Javik might be her only chance to really convince them. Val glanced at Alex, slouched in his chair with a frown on his face. It was a leap of faith, but if she wanted them to believe her, and trust her, it was a leap she had to take.
The Alliance holding facility was , like the rest of the camp, a series of drab, gray prefabs, laid end to end and bolstered with extra security. True to Garrus's promise, the three of them marched through the Alliance camp to get there, in full public view the whole way. They went straight to the more secluded end of the building and walked right in the entrance, Garrus and Val in the lead.
Inside was a small security console staffed by a pair of bored-looking guards. One of the guards said, barely looking up, "State your business, please."
"Staff Commander Shepard and guests to see Javik," Val said, matching the casual neutrality of his tone. For this to work, they needed to seem completely routine and aboveboard.
The guard looked up at Javik's name, though, eyes wide and startled, seeming remarkably young. "But that's—"
His partner, older and heavyset, cleared her throat, and the first guard looked embarrassed before straightening up. "Sorry, Commander, we don't have any authorized access on the schedule today, and, um. I'm not sure you're on the authorized list at all."
Val sighed. "Doesn't that just figure? Could you check again? I only got my orders to come over here half an hour ago."
"Of course." The guard dutifully tapped at his console and frowned.
Val waited for a couple of seconds before saying, "Well?"
"I'm, uh..." The guard poked anxiously at the console. His partner got up from her seat and came over to peer over his shoulder.
"Come on, I don't have all day," Val said.
"Sorry, Commander, we're having difficulty accessing the system."
That was entirely predictable, given the interference Alex's omni-tool was throwing off. There was a good chance that network communications were clogged anyway, given the day's events, but they'd decided not to take chances.
"There's a lot going on right now," added the female guard. "Probably just overloaded."
"Look, this won't take long," Val said. "We just need to ask the Prothean a couple of questions."
The two guards looked at each other. "About?" asked the woman.
Val sighed impatiently. "I can't tell you that."
"Could you come back later?" asked the male guard, nervously.
At that, Garrus made a disgruntled noise, and Val shook her head. "The Hierarchy rep here's got a schedule to stick to," she said, in a tone that implied the turian was being unreasonable, but what could you do?
The guards exchanged glances again. Then the woman said, "Half an hour."
"Thanks, I appreciate it," Val said, and breezed by before they could change their minds.
The corridor beyond was lined with closed, windowless doors, most with electronic locks glowing orange-red. Only one had a lock lit green. Val chose not to glance at either of her companions before opening the door, but her heartbeat accelerated. Here was the moment of truth. They were all placing a lot of faith in the idea that Javik could sort this out. That he could prove she wasn't simply delusional, or a programmed clone.
Liara had said she was delusional. But Val was sure that Liara had seen otherwise, and had chosen to lie. Or been compelled to lie by the Leviathan, maybe.
The whole thing was making Val's head hurt out of confusion and frustration, but the only thing she could think to do was press on. Trying to lie and live the life she'd been given had only gotten her into her current mess.
As soon as the door opened, a rush of warm, humid air flowed out. It smelled the way Javik's quarters on the Normandy had smelled, of dampness and ozone and a certain burnt-metal tang. The atmospheric controls had been altered from human norms to suit Javik's comfort, and bowls of water stood on every level surface. The room wasn't as large as Javik's quarters on the Normandy, not nearly as large as the protective confinement Shepard herself had occupied in Vancouver. All the furniture was plain, standard-issue stuff. In spite of the warmth of the room, Val felt chilled at the idea of Javik being confined here. As difficult as the Prothean could be, she respected him as a proud warrior. He didn't deserved to be held against his will, no matter what the Alliance was afraid he'd do.
She stepped in. There, sitting incongruously on a bland beige couch, was Javik himself, still wearing the gleaming, chitinous red armor Val recognized. Looking, in fact, exactly like he had the last time she'd seen him, in London.
All four of Javik's eyes flicked to her and passed over Alex before settling on Garrus.
"Turian," Javik said. "Why are you here? And why have you brought these humans?"
"Nice to see you, too," Garrus replied dryly.
Javik made a kind of rasping noise deep in his throat. "Nothing about this... situation... is 'nice,' turian. I agreed to fight the Reapers with your Shepard, and this is how I am repaid?"
No, Val realized. Not like in London. Then, Javik had been weary, but with the also calm and focused. Now, he seemed fairly seething with helpless fury.
"I'm sorry," Garrus said carefully, sounding conciliatory. "I did protest to the Alliance, but it wasn't my call."
Javik sniffed. "What do I care for this foolish human government? Shepard pledged to destroy the Reapers, and he did not."
"We don't know what happened to Shepard," Garrus said. His eyes darted quickly to Val. "Maybe it wasn't possible to destroy them. Maybe he didn't have a choice."
"Or maybe he made the wrong choice," Val added.
"Who are these humans?" Javik asked.
Garrus said, "Staff Commander Val Shepard, Alex Shepard. No relation to the Shepard you know."
Javik rose slowly from the couch, bulking large and menacing in spite of their confined surroundings. "That hardly answers the question. A name is not who a person is."
"I'm Commander Shepard," Val said, tired of the conversation. She stood her ground as Javik approached, all four of his eyes now focused on her. "I mean, I remember being Commander Shepard. Doing the things that this Shepard — John Shepard — seems to have done. More or less. I woke up after the battle, and everything around me seemed wrong. I don't know how." Her eyes stung. She was so tired of wondering, of doubting herself. "We came here because we were hoping you could tell me if what I remember is true, or if this world is, or... what." She blinked hard and took a deep breath. "If I'm really delusional, I'd rather know for certain."
Javik's facial expressions had always been hard to read, but his voice turned distinctly more contemptuous. "What absurd tale is this?"
"It's true, that's why we're here," Garrus said. "You were the only one I could think of who might be able to help."
"Can you?" Alex asked. "Can you tell if her memories are real, or some kind of invention?"
"Of course," said Javik. "Your kind are not yet so skilled in the manipulation of memories."
Alex's nostrils flared. "Then just do it, all right? We don't have a lot of time."
"I do not take orders from you, human," Javik said, but his attention turned back to Val and he took a heavy step toward her.
She stood her ground, lifting her chin. Javik's usual withering attitude toward all things of this cycle was so familiar that it gave her a kind of confidence. She did her best to meet the gaze of his two central eyes head-on, returning respect and bracing herself.
Where melding with an asari was a two-way process, Javik's way of reading a person felt like nothing at all. A little bit of pressure at her temples, or that might have been her imagination, a purely psychosomatic reaction. Her heart pounded while Javik stared at her, as she hoped with everything in her that he'd say what she wanted to hear.
Then Javik blinked, first the middle pair of eyes, then all four of them at once. "You," he said, something like respect dawning in his voice. "You were not swayed by that child-thing's lies. You sought to destroy them."
"Yes," Val said. Her skull pounded, her morning's headache back with a vengeance, but relief flooded through her.
"That is as it should be," Javik said. "This human tells truth. Your asari lied. Why, and how this came to be, I do not know."
Alex grunted, apparently in frustration. Garrus said, "Thanks, Javik. You've helped a lot."
Javik scoffed, turning to the nearest bowl of water and dipping his hands into it. "And so you shall leave me here."
Garrus hesitated and glanced at Val. She shook her head slowly. The thought of leaving Javik here made her stomach churn, but she couldn't think of any way to get him out without challenging Alliance Command. Garrus said, "I'm sorry, but we can't just break you out of here."
Javik's breath came out in a hiss. "I understand." His massive head turned, as he glanced back at them over his shoulder. "You cannot trust the Reapers, or any AI. When you must fight them again, then you may need me."
"I'll get you out of here. As soon as I can," Val said. It was a rash promise, but Javik, no matter how difficult and prickly, was one of her own people. She owed him far better than this.
He inclined his great head, silent, and they left.
"Did you get what you needed?" one of the door guards called as they left.
"Sure did," Val replied with a smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Garrus glance at her, and Alex frown in thought.
Once the door had closed behind them and they were out of earshot, Alex burst out, "None of this makes sense."
"I believe her, though," Garrus said, and it warmed something deep in Val's chest. She took a breath, and felt some residual tightness in her ribcage loosen.
"That still doesn't answer how this happened," Alex said. "Or what to do about it."
They were both looking at her, Val realized. With curiosity, with speculation, even with a hint of expectation. Under their eyes, she could almost feel the weight of Commander Shepard settling around her.
"Well, Commander," Garrus said. "What now?"