Chapter 27

SSV Normandy, Outer Council Space

Shepard stood in the Normandy'sMed Bay, gazing down at Ashley's unconscious form, a grim expression on his face as he attempted to process all that had happened since the Reapers had finally arrived in the Sol System.

Williams was in a medically induced coma, barely clinging to life. Without a medical officer on board, it was the best they could do for her and the only chance they had at keeping her alive long enough to reach the Citadel.

After the Cerberus android had nearly succeeded in crushing Ashley's skull back on Mars, the automated emergency medical systems in her armor had kicked in and stabilized her long enough for transport back to the Normandy. Her left arm was shattered, she'd sustained four broken ribs, and severe bruising to her internal organs. But it was the trauma to her head that was truly life-threatening. Liara had done what she could to control the swelling in her brain, but his asari friend, however brilliant, was no medical doctor. It was urgent they reach a proper hospital soon if Ashley had any chance of surviving.

In the next bed over, Private Campbell was lying in a similar state of unconsciousness. The young Marine who'd accompanied Ashley to Earth had suffered terrible wounds to her torso from a Reaper energy weapon. She'd likely survive, but, as with Lieutenant Commander Williams, the girl needed the kind of care that they simply couldn't provide on the ship.

Shepard let out a long sigh and glanced around the revamped Medical Bay. It looked nearly the same as the last time he'd been on board the SR-2, with only a few minor aesthetic updates. But right now, as far as he was concerned, it was a hollow shell of its former self without the ever-present Dr. Chakwas at her customary station.

He flexed his right forearm, still trying to recover full sensation in the area where he'd blocked a vicious blow from the Cerberus android before he and Vega had managed to pacify the thing. Thanks to Liara's insistence to examine the injury, he knew he'd sustained clean fractures in both his ulna and radius bones. The emergency medical cast and sling he was now wearing had effectively immobilized the limb and the Medi-gel drip had reduced the pain to a dull, throbbing.

The android that Liara had known as Dr. Eva Coré was presently locked in a blast-proof ordnance container two decks below in the Shuttle Bay. Despite EDI's assurance that the robot was thoroughly incapacitated and in a dormant state, he wasn't taking any chances. He posted the only two Marines he could spare on the deck, equipped them with heavy weapons, and instructed EDI to blow it out into space if it even twitched funny.

Needless to say, Shepard was in a less than pleasant mood when he heard the door swoosh open behind him, followed by the sound of delicate footsteps approaching.

Wordlessly, Liara bent down over Ashley's bed and checked her vitals and the multiple automated systems that were keeping her alive. Satisfied, she looked up to meet Shepard's gaze. "Still stable," she said. "No change from the last time I checked in on her. We're only a couple hours out from the Citadel now, so I think the worst of it is behind us. Joker's established communications with Alliance Spaceport Operations and requested a trauma team to meet us at the Alliance docks."

"And the Council?" Shepard asked, glancing back down at Ashley.

"I've made some calls. They've been in emergency session for the past several hours, but we'll have an audience as soon as we arrive. I've already coordinated with your Councilor Udina."

Shepard nodded slightly, lost in thought.

"John," Liara said gently, "I hope you're not blaming yourself for this."

Shepard made a noise, but kept his eyes cast downward, brooding.

Liara frowned. "If anything, Ashley's condition is my fault. I should have recognized that Dr. Coré wasn't what she seemed. I was just so caught up in the research," she said, shaking her head. "And all those people that died there on Mars…"

That shook him from his trance and he turned to face Liara. "That's nonsense, Liara," he said, placing his good hand on her arm. "What happened on Mars was because of that psychopath, the Illusive Man. Simple as that. I knew what he was capable of. I won't underestimate him again."

Liara looked up to meet his gaze, her eyes moist.

Shepard then pulled her into a tight one-armed hug. "It's not your fault. Don't think for a second those lives are on you."

Liara allowed herself to settle into his shoulder for a few moments before drawing in a deep breath and composing herself. "That's kind of you to say, John," she said, slowing pulling away from his embrace and giving a tentative smile. "But we've barely had time to speak since leaving Mars. You must have questions. And I'm sure you're eager to speak with Miranda."

Shepard gave a cynical grin and shook his head again, taking a few steps away before turning back to face Liara, a pained look on his face.

"What?" Liara asked, bewildered. "What is it?"

"I thought she was dead, Liara," he said. "For months I beat myself up, thinking I'd gotten her killed along with the rest of the crew."

Liara's expression fell. "What?..." she said, her voice trailing off in confusion, her mouth slightly agape. "Oh Goddess, Shepard. He didn't tell you? Anderson didn't tell you?!"

"He told me," he said bitterly. "He told me just before we escaped Earth, while the Reapers were blotting out the sun."

Liara looked dumbstruck as she stared back at Shepard, but then her expression hardened. She walked closer to him and put a hand on his chest. "She's alive, John," she said and nodded confidently. "I was with her on Hagalaz just over a week ago. She was there when Cerberus found the Shadow Broker operation. Those images they showed you were manipulated. The woman you saw executed was Sarah Patel. Miranda was being held in the same place, but she was far too valuable to them to kill. It was all a horrible charade meant to torment you, to break down your resolve." She swallowed hard. "I'm so sorry, John."

"Patel?" Shepard said, looking crestfallen. "Christ… Those fucking animals."

"I couldn't contact you," Liara muttered. "No one could. We weren't allowed. They told us it would jeopardize your case." A flame of anger then crossed her asari features. "But if I'd known how little had been shared with you—"

"Where is she now?" he interrupted.

"Now? I don't know for certain. But she was going to Sanctum, to follow a lead I'd provided her with."

"What kind of a lead? What else do you know, Liara?"

Liara let out a long sigh. "Quite a lot, John," she said, glancing up at the digital mission clock bolted to the wall. "We still have time before we get to the Citadel. Why don't we go sit down? I noticed earlier that the Port Observation lounge was more or less intact." She gave an encouraging smile. "Come on. I'll buy you a drink."

Over the next ninety minutes, Liara brought Shepard up to speed on all he'd missed since being captured by the SAIS after Bahak and all the way up through to her arrival on Mars. She recounted it all for him in vivid detail. From Miranda's rescue from the Alliance black site on Akuze, the team's combined attempt to extract him from Noveria, Miranda's work with Anita Goyle, the Arcturus plot, her own discovery on Kahje that had led her to the Mars Archives, and on through their escape from Hagalaz. By the time she'd finished, Shepard's head was spinning.

"I know it's a lot to take in," Liara said meekly. "And, honestly, I'm not doing the whole story justice. I have a periphery understanding of Miranda's activities for Anita Goyle, but I'm sure there's much I don't know."

"You know," Shepard said, laughing softly, "The bit that's hardest to wrap my head around is Oriana's place in all this."

Liara smiled. "Yes, I believe that was quite a difficult decision for her. But, she's an extremely intelligent girl, unsurprisingly," she said and shrugged. "And I believe Miranda felt compelled to ensure her sister was prepared on some level for this war."

"Yeah, well, with Thane and Kasumi sticking with them, Oriana and Kolyat have a pretty outstanding group of tutors," he said. "I just hope it's enough."

Liara gazed back at him in silence for a long moment. "I'm still having a hard time understanding why Anderson would have kept Miranda's survival a secret for so long. I know he must have had an inkling of what she means to you."

Shepard cradled the glass of bourbon he'd been nursing for the last forty minutes, the ice cubes long since melted. The bar that Cerberus had installed in the crew lounge was long gone, deemed ridiculously inappropriate by the Alliance for a naval warship. But a few enterprising crew members had still managed to stash a few bottles of good liquor. The Commander had little trouble tracking it down. "Anderson's a shrewd man. He's not going to lay all his cards on the table if he doesn't have to. He knows me, but not her. Not really. Doesn't make it right, but I understand why he kept it from me."

"He still hadn't come around to fully trusting her," she agreed, following Shepard's line of thinking. "He was trying to protect you. He thought he would save you the pain of losing her twice if he decided—"

"—He had to have her eliminated?" he finished her thought. "He would have found out the hard way what a tall task that would've been."

Liara was looking more and more uncomfortable with the subject. "Still," she said, "after the risks Miranda has taken on his behalf, the danger she and the others were in on Arcturus, it just seems ungrateful and… Cruel."

Shepard nodded slightly and looked up to meet Liara's eyes. "War's cruel, Liara. And he's been fighting one long before the Reapers showed up over Earth. I don't like that he held the truth back from me, not one bit. But if I step out of my skin and try to see it from his perspective, I can't honestly say I wouldn't have done the same thing." He gave a wry smile and half snorted a laugh. "Doesn't mean I'm not gonna deck the sonofabitch the next time I see him, though."

"Commander Shepard," Traynor's voice announced over the intercom, "we're on final approach to the Citadel and have received priority docking clearance. ETA fourteen minutes."

"On my way," he said and rose from his seat, glancing over at Liara. "Time to get back to work."

The Citadel, Systems Alliance Naval Docks

After Joker glided the big frigate along the length of one of the Citadel's massive arms and eased the ship into its docking collar at bay D24, the patchwork crew of the SSV Normandy found the Systems Alliance Naval docks buzzing with activity.

On final approach to the massive space station, EDI had successfully reestablished a stable link to the secured Alliance Naval networks and begun the process of synchronizing the battlefield data the Normandy had collected in Sol with the available intel from the fleet. The incoming details were still fractured and communications from the outlying systems were sporadic, but Shepard and his crew were beginning to get a better sense of the full scope of the Reaper advance into the galaxy.

The massive Reaper invasion fleet had largely bypassed the Alliance Navy forces stationed in the Exodus Cluster while they pushed on toward Arcturus and Earth. Eden Prime and the Seventh Fleet that defended the colony were left untouched, at least for now. But a smaller enemy force had broken off from the main group and laid siege to Terra Nova. The Sixth had staged a brief, heroic defense of the world, but then wisely pulled back before the Reapers could pin them down. Many of those vessels were now choking the Alliance docks with traffic, disgorging streams of soldiers into the secured area of the Presidium.

Admiral Hackett's status, and that of the Second, Third, and Fifth Fleets stationed at Arcturus Station, was less clear. The reports that had managed to break through to Earth before they'd lost contact had indicated the station itself had been lost. But there was still no word yet on whether or not the Alliance Navy's highest ranking military commander had survived the battle.

The Alliance servers were relaying other details as well. The turians had been struck immediately after the human home system. And by the initial numbers filtering in, the Hierarchy was dealing with a force of Reapers roughly twice the strength of that which had assaulted Earth.

Comm buoys and surveillance satellites were dropping off the grid all along the frontiers of human and turian space, but so far none of the other spacefaring civilizations were reporting Reaper sightings in their territories. But Shepard had no doubt those reports would come in time. The fire had ignited from batarian space and quickly spread to the human and turian worlds, but soon the whole galaxy would be burning.

The Normandy squeezed into her assigned docking bay alongside two other older and smaller Ticonderoga class frigates. Farther up along the port, a battered looking cruiser clung to its massive docking collars while several repair drones crawled along the outside of the ship, hastily working to seal a half dozen different hull breaches. And waves of both Kodiak and larger Samaritan class medical shuttles zipped back and forth across the Wards, ferrying personnel from the larger dreadnoughts and supercarriers that couldn't fit in the overcrowded docking ring.

Inside, lines of troops in full combat kit snaked along the multi-leveled platforms, boarding transports for redeployment or pouring from the gangways of the warships already in port. Along the opposite side of the docks, a long procession of ambulances lined the terminal platforms, idling in their small slips and waiting to spirit away the wounded to a half dozen different Citadel hospitals. The whole area was percolating with tense energy and an unmistakable sense of foreboding.

Amid the chaotic military port, a team of emergency medical personnel weaved through the upper platform and found their way to the Normandy's assigned gate.

Several minutes later, Shepard and Liara strode purposefully down the Normandy's gangway and emerged out onto the main concourse of the Alliance Naval docks, trailing close behind the med techs that were busy rushing Ashley and Private Campbell off the ship. The wounded women were both strapped to gurneys, hovering a meter off the ground, and being pushed along at an urgent pace. Lieutenant Vega marched his considerable bulk just ahead of them, shouldering aside any personnel unfortunate enough to get in his way as he cleared a path through the docks. Specialist Traynor followed just behind the Commander and T'Soni, a datapad in one hand and a harried expression on her young face.

"Where are you taking them?" Shepard asked the closest EMT, an agitated looking asari.

"Huerta Memorial," she called over her shoulder, examining Ashley's vitals displayed on a datapad in her hand. "Other side of the Presidium. All major trauma cases are being routed there. At least for now."

"Hey," Shepard said and grabbed the asari's arm, holding her up, "are they going to make it?"

The woman looked annoyed for a quick second, but then responded in an even, measured voice. "They're stable, but I'm just the med tech assigned to triage the critical cases. I have them both booked for immediate surgery, but we need to get them to Huerta as soon as possible."

Shepard felt Liara's hand on his arm and released the woman. "Right. Sorry."

"Its fine," the asari said and then turned to chase after the rest of her team that had started loading Williams and Campbell into a pair of ambulances across the concourse. "You can check on their status at the admissions desk," she called back before jumping into the back of the nearest emergency shuttle.

Shepard and Liara stood shoulder to shoulder and watched as the medical personnel finished readying the two wounded Marines for transport. A few seconds later, the rear doors of the ambulances sealed shut and the shuttles leapt out into the artificial atmosphere of the Presidium, lights flashing and sirens warbling.

"Uh, excuse me, Commander," Traynor said hesitantly from just behind Shepard's shoulder.

He turned to face the young woman. "Traynor, what do you have for me?"

"I'm sorry, sir. But I need you to authorize the permanent assignments for these crewmembers?" she said, handing the datapad to him. "Lieutenant Commander Williams didn't have a chance to do it before…"

"It's okay, Traynor," he said, accepting the tablet. He then glanced over the roster of names, all Alliance Naval personnel that had been stationed on Yeager at the time of the invasion but had been actively working on the Normandy's refit. They'd all lost their station and were requesting permanent assignment on board. "Your name's on this list," he said, meeting her gaze. "You feel you're up to the task, overseeing the ship's comm array and data network?"

Traynor blushed slightly under the Commander's penetrating gaze. But then she seemed to recover and even bristled a fraction. "Absolutely," she said in her distinctive London accent. "I know those systems like the back of my hand. I can promise you I'm up to the task—sir."

"That ship will be heading into the worst of it, Specialist," he said, pointing out toward where the Normandy was moored. "It won't be like the lab on Yeager. We're going to be getting shot at—a lot. I need you to be sure you're willing to accept that and that you'll be able to perform under fire."

She swallowed but returned a resolute look. "I'm certain, Commander."

He stared back at Traynor for another few moments, getting the measure of her. "Alright then," he said, keying in his personal security code on the datapad before handing it back to her. "Your transfers are approved. Welcome to the crew, Traynor."

"Thank you, sir," she said. "Should I contact Alliance R&D about the Cerberus android you recovered? Arrange for it to be transferred off-ship?"

"No," he said and exchanged a quick glance with Liara. "It stays onboard the Normandy. And not a word about it in the logs, Traynor. Do you understand?"

She nodded rapidly. "Aye, Commander. I understand."

"Good. Then if that's all, Specialist, I've got a reasonably important meeting to attend," he said and started to turn away.

"Uh, actually sir, there's just one more thing."

Shepard shared an amused look with Liara and turned back to face Traynor. "What's up?"

"Well, you see, umm, I wasn't entirely prepared to leave Yeager Station on a prolonged journey. That is, uh, I don't really have anything with me other than an overnight bag's worth of gear. Permission to take an hour to do a bit of quick shopping?" she said and gave him a meek smile.

Shepard was looking at her incredulously, but then softened his expression. He barely knew anything about this young woman, but he found himself feeling a completely unfounded sense of endearment toward her. She's a plucky one, he thought to himself. "Of course, Traynor. But see the Alliance Quartermaster's Office her at the docks first. They can get you squared away with most of what you need. Might as well bill it to the Navy," he said and shrugged. "But you're also approved for some quick shore leave. Pass it along to the rest of the crew, as well. Everyone not working an essential shift has six hours, starting now."

Traynor beamed. "Thank you, Commander," she said and saluted. "I'll give the word." She then turned on her heel and trotted off through the crowds, back toward the Normandy's boarding tunnel.

"She's… interesting," Liara said.

"She'll be alright," he said, a wry grin playing across his mouth. "I hope."

"I haven't seen this many grunts running around in one place since basic," Vega said. After seeing the two ambulances off, he'd wandered back to where Shepard and Liara were standing.

Shepard nodded, observing the lines of troops and techs urgently moving up and down the concourse. "James, get with Chief Adams and see that all our ordnance and stores are topped off by nineteen hundred hours. I don't know where we're headed next, but we're definitely not staying here for long. Squeeze anyone you need to and get our supplies bumped to the front of the line."

Vega gave him a malicious grin. "Squeezing people is one of my specialties, Commander. I'll get it done," he said, saluted, and waded off amid the throng of bodies.

Shepard and Liara then continued on their way toward the Security checkpoints and the primary bank of turbo elevators beyond, but before they'd gone another ten meters, a trio of uniformed C-Sec officers emerged from the crowd, blocking their path.

"Commander," the familiar, gravelly voice of Armando-Owen Bailey called out as he strode toward Shepard and Liara. The man was flanked by two other uniformed officers, a turian male and a human woman.

"Captain Bailey," Shepard said, extending his hand in greeting. "Good to see you again."

"It's Commander now, actually," he said and frowned, shaking Shepard's hand. "I have the pleasure of overseeing the Embassy quarters and the broader Presidium districts."

"Congratulations?" Shepard offered.

Bailey grunted a response. "I preferred the Wards. Down on the streets, I at least had real work to do. Now, I spend most of my time dealing with political bullshit or escorting dignitaries around. No offense."

"None taken," Shepard said and gestured to Liara. "This is Doctor Liara T'Soni."

"Pleasure, Doctor T'Soni," Bailey said and glanced back at Shepard. "I'm here at Councilor Udina's request, to get you expedited through Security and escort you to the Council Chambers. Horseshit formality, really. It's not like it's your first time on this tin can. And you sure as hell know the way to the Council Tower."

Shepard gave the man an ironic grin. "That I do," he said. "But we don't mind the company. Lead the way, Commander."

Bailey scowled and then waved for them to follow. His two officers hurried up ahead to clear a path through the security checkpoint while he fell in next to Shepard and Liara.

"Are all the docks this chaotic?" Liara asked.

Bailey shook his head. "The commercial ports are just shy of all out mayhem with half the flights cancelled every hour, but this is the worst of it. The salarian and asari docks are damn well serene compared to this mess. And the turians have their slips locked down so tight I've had to fight to preserve C-Sec access. War may be spilling across the whole galaxy, but right now humanity's taking the brunt of it, far as I can tell."

"Yeah," Shepard said quietly. "That's the truth."

"That bad?"

"Worse."

"Shit."

"You got family back in Sol, Bailey?"

"A son," he said. "And an ex-wife I haven't spoken to in three years. They live in Boston. I haven't gotten word on either of them."

"A lot of people got off-world," Shepard said, trying to sound encouraging while the group strode through the security checkpoint and piled into an elevator. "Even more were evacuated out of the metro areas and away from the fighting. There's a good chance your family's among them."

Bailey glanced at Shepard, his face a stony mask, and then slapped the nearby panel to close the elevator doors.

The Citadel, Presidium, Council Tower

A little over thirty minutes later, Shepard and Liara walked out of the Council Chambers, shaking their heads in frustration.

"Well, that could have gone better," Liara said cautiously.

"I can't say that I expected anything different," Shepard said. "It sounds like the turians have their hands full, trying to hold the Reapers back from Palaven. And Tevos and Valern don't exactly inspire confidence. They're afraid and clearly struggling to wrap their heads around the bigger picture." He made a flippant noise. "I can see why Anderson bailed and went back to Earth."

"We're all afraid, Shepard."

"I'm sorry, Liara," he said and waved his hand. "But your people just aren't wired for a fight like this. Humanity has a long, bloody history of killing each other. I guess you could say we're accustomed to a certain level of pain and cruelty. And the turians? Hell, there are probably a good number of them that welcome the glory of facing an unbeatable enemy. But we don't have time to hold the hands of the asari and the salarians. The Reapers will turn their attention toward their worlds sooner or later. And once the Alliance and the Hierarchy are ground to dust, they'll be on their own."

Liara gave him a pleading look as they walked through the Council Tower's long, ornate lobby. "You don't have to make the argument with me, John. I know as well as you what we're facing. But they need something to rally behind if they're going to be moved to devote their own resources to help Earth."

Shepard nodded. "I know," he said and sighed. "You still confident there's something important buried in the Prothean data pulled from Mars?"

"I'm certain of it," she said and nodded resolutely. "The encryption applied to that data is unlike anything else in the Archives. I'd wager that it's military. But I need time to decrypt and study the information. The Illusive Man, and the SAIS before him, had pieces to the puzzle. I just hope we can find the answers before Cerberus does. After Mars, I think we can safely conclude they no longer have humanity's best interests at heart."

Shepard grunted in the affirmative. "Then it sounds like I need to keep you close. You up for remaining on the Normandy? EDI can help with the Prothean data and anything else we dig up along the way."

Liara smiled and glanced up at him. "I was hoping you'd say that," she said and hit the call button for the elevator. "I'd like to bring some equipment onboard with me, if that's alright with you. The Shadow Broker intelligence networks are still largely intact, despite the fact the Illusive Man has learned the truth about me. I still have access to useful resources."

"Whatever you need, Liara," Shepard said as they both stepped into the waiting elevator. "We'll find you some room. That is, as soon as I figure out what the hell the Navy did with the Research and Tech Lab."

Liara laughed softly as the elevator plummeted down the incredibly tall shaft that ran the length of the Council Tower. "Just like old times," she said and smiled wistfully. "Well, maybe not quite."

He looked at her awkwardly and began to say something, but was interrupted when the elevator came to a sudden halt, halfway down the tower.

Shepard and Liara shared a quick, mildly alarmed look just before the doors sprang open and revealed a squad of turian special security troopers, clad in full combat kit and wielding heavy assault rifles. The duo froze, surprised by the soldiers, whose weapons were pointed vaguely in their direction.

"Sir, we need you to come with us," the turian in charge said briskly. Shepard noted the man, along with the rest of his troopers, all wore the insignia of the Citadel Council upon the upper right side of their chest armor.

Shepard's Paladin heavy pistol was strapped to his leg, but he knew reaching for the weapon wouldn't do a damn bit of good while he was standing in an elevator car and facing a team of heavily armed turian special operators. But that didn't stop Liara from acting on instinct. He felt the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand up as she flared her biotics and crouched down slightly.

The turian commander immediately held out an empty palm, trying to diffuse the situation. "Wait!" he called. "We're just here to escort you to Councilor Sparatus." He then glanced around at the tense looking troops crowded around behind him. "Men, take a few steps back and secure your weapons."

The other turian soldiers obeyed and backed off a few paces, locking their rifles into the brackets at the back of their armor. But Liara wasn't convinced and continued to glare menacingly at the turians.

"It's alright, Liara," Shepard said and touched her elbow. "If they wanted us dead, we'd already be a puddle of goo on the floor of this elevator car."

She flicked her eyes to him and then back to the turian in charge before relaxing her stance and allowing the dark energy around her to dissipate harmlessly into the air conditioned atmosphere.

"I'm sorry about that, Commander," the turian said. "We didn't mean to alarm you, but everyone's a little on edge right now."

Shepard smirked. "Tell me about it."

"Could you please come with us, sir? We'll take you directly to the Councilor's location. He's expecting you."

"Lead the way," Shepard said and placed his hand on the small of Liara's back, guiding her out of the elevator alongside him.

"I'm sorry, sir," the turian soldier said. "My instructions were to bring you—and only you—to the Councilor."

Liara started to protest, but then Shepard gave her a reassuring look. "Its fine, Liara. I'll be fine. Why don't you head over to Huerta and check on Ashley and Campbell. I'll meet you there in a bit."

Liara shot one last suspicious glance at the turians and then nodded. "Alright, if you're sure," she said and stepped back into the elevator. "But if you're not there within thirty minutes, I'm coming to look for you—and the Councilor." She scowled at the turian commander and hit the button, closing the door and resuming her descent down the tower.

After the soldiers guided Shepard through a series of secure passageways to a part of the Council Tower that he'd never seen before, the turian commander opened one final unmarked door for him and motioned him forward.

Walking in, Shepard found himself in a deep, dimly lit office. The décor was stark, but functional, featuring dark shades of gray and steel blue, typical of turian design preference. At the back of the room, Councilor Sparatus was seated behind an absurdly long desk that looked more like the pylon of a warship than a piece of furniture. He looked up when Shepard entered and waved him forward. "Commander, thank you for coming. Please sit down."

Shepard stepped closer and took a seat opposite the Councilor, across the massive desk. "You're not staying in your regular offices, Councilor?"

"There are more than a few turian sayings about caution and vigilance, Commander Shepard. I won't bore you with them, but, needless to say, they are apropos to troubled times such as these."

"I can't argue with that."

Sparatus folded his hands upon the desk in front of him and studied Shepard for a moment. "Your argument to the Council was compelling, Commander," he said. "I've brought you here to tell you that, unlike the other Council races, the turians are motivated to cooperate with your military. However, I need something from you before any meaningful discussions toward an alliance can begin."

"I'm listening."

"The situation on my homeworld is far graver than I alluded to during the Council session. The Reapers have conquered Taetrus, brushing aside two colonial fleets in the process, and have advanced deep into the Trebia System. They are now in the process of laying siege to Palaven, blockading the entire region with roughly three times the number that assaulted your Sol System."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Councilor. But I'm still waiting to hear how I can help."

Sparatus held up a hand, asking for patience. "Eleven Citadel standard hours ago, a squadron of stealth frigates attempted to break through and extract our supreme head of state, Primarch Fedorian. But before they could reach his location, the force was decimated, losing all but one of the vessels, before being forced to abort the mission."

"There's no other way for your people to get him out?"

"The Naval High Command wants to break off an entire battle group, with no less than four dreadnoughts in support, for an attempt to run the blockade and escort him out of the system. But he won't allow it. He says the ships and men are needed elsewhere, to defend the people. And he's right."

Shepard nodded slowly. "So you want the Normandy to go in and extract him."

The turian leaned back in his chair and put his hands in his lap. "Fedorian's survival is crucial, Shepard. He's a man of singular vision and a uniquely qualified leader to see the Hierarchy through this crisis. And he's the only one with the necessary authority and influence to solidify the alliance you are seeking.

"You and your ship have already proven adept at evading this enemy. The tale of your success in passing through the Omega 4 Relay, confronting the Collectors within their own territory, and returning with your lives intact, is better known than you might realize. You're the best hope in bringing the Primarch to safety, and in doing so, breathing life into your quest for a broader coalition to fight the Reapers."

Shepard stared back at the Councilor for a long time, studying the turian, before letting out a long breath. "Why not take this directly to Admiral Kaneda? I'm technically under his command while in Citadel space. If this mission is as critical to turian-human cooperation as you claim, the Alliance will jump at the chance to help. Believe me, no one's going to lose sleep over putting me and my ship in harm's way."

"You misunderstand me, Commander. I'm not asking you to undertake this mission on behalf of the Alliance Navy. I'm ordering you, as a Council Spectre, to carry out this task."

The turian continued before Shepard could protest. "You, of course, can refuse. It's your prerogative to act with your own world's best interests first," Sparatus said. "You're in a unique situation, Commander. All other Council Spectres that have come before you were required to renounce their official ties to their species, resign their military commissions, where applicable, and swear fealty to the Council alone. Obviously, we made a rather substantial exception in your case. Any individual Councilor has the unilateral authority to dispatch an agent of the Citadel Council on a mission. However, given your reinstated status within the Alliance Navy, well, let's just say it makes things a little more awkward."

"You're afraid if you went straight to the Alliance, sidestepping the other Councilors, they'd feel threatened by a potential human-turian alliance, pull back from the Council accords."

"Precisely, Commander," the Councilor said. "And you don't have to tell me how absurd that perspective might seem when war is at our doorstep. But the Hierarchy—and the Alliance, as well—depends mightily on resources and aid from the asari and salarians. We have to tread lightly with them. Our worlds may be enduring the brunt of the Reaper advance, but the governments that Tevos and Valern serve feel that galactic distances, advanced intelligence, and superior diplomatic negotiations will shield them from this horror. They are, of course, wrong." Sparatus stood up, slowly walked around the enormous desk, and stood closer to Shepard. "But if you can save the Primarch's life and deliver him from immediate danger, I can work through back channels to bring the asari and salarians to the table. I can make the war summit your Alliance desires a reality."

Shepard looked up at the turian diplomat, suddenly appreciating what Anderson had endured during his tenure on the Council and understanding why he preferred a war zone over the Citadel. "Alright, Councilor," he said, standing to face Sparatus. "We'll get your Primarch out. And I'll do it as your Spectre and keep it off the Alliance records. But you need to make that summit happen."

"Thank you, Commander," Sparatus said, the words looking like they were physically painful for the turian to utter. "I don't think I need to stress the urgency of this mission. You're well aware of what is pressing down on the people of Palaven."

"We'll be ready to leave within eight hours, Councilor," Shepard said, beginning to leave. But then he stopped halfway to the door and turned back to face Sparatus. "What if he's already dead?"

Sparatus stared back at him, his expression unreadable. "If he's dead, then Spirits help us all."

Shepard sighed. "Yeah, I thought you'd say something like that," he said and then marched out of the office.

The Citadel, Presidium, Huerta Memorial Hospital

When Shepard arrived at Huerta Memorial, he found the hospital as busy and crowed as the Alliance docks—but even more hectic.

All around, asari, human, and salarian medics rushed back and forth, attending to the waves of wounded—mostly human men and women—that were flooding into the hospital. Huerta was one of the largest, most well equipped medical centers on the Citadel, but its staff was clearly struggling under the strain of the sudden influx of so many critical patients.

He surveyed the large, open lobby and then descended a short flight of steps down to the main floor, wading through the crowd until he reached the Admissions Desk. "I'm looking for two Alliance Marines, Lieutenant Commander Williams and Private Campbell," he told the beleaguered looking asari behind the desk. "They were brought in a couple of hours ago."

The asari didn't even look up from the mountain of datapads strewn across her desk. "You'll have to wait a moment," she said brusquely. "I'm still playing catchup here."

Shepard felt his impatience growing and started to say something, but then heard his name called out from across the lobby.

"John!" Liara shouted again as she made her way through the crowd.

Shepard turned to see Liara walking toward him, a familiar human woman at her side.

"Look who I found."

"I came as soon as I heard the Normandy had arrived with wounded crewmembers," Dr. Chakwas said before pulling Shepard into a brief hug. "It's so good to see you both, Commander."

"Doctor Chakwas," Shepard said, "what are you doing on the Citadel?"

She scowled. "After that bastard Major Richter and his SAIS cronies boarded the Normandy and transported me, Jeff, Gabby, and Ken back to Earth, Admiral Hackett intervened on my behalf and had me transferred to the Navy Medical Research Institute here on the Presidium. I've been here for nearly three months now, slowly going insane thanks to the tedious nature of my current position." She smiled benignly. "But I am grateful to the Admiral. He took a risk in looking out for me, shielding me from undue scrutiny."

"It's great to see you too, doctor," Shepard said. "Do you know how Ashley's doing? And Private Campbell?"

"Yes," she said. "I've just spoken with their attending physicians. "Campbell is fine. She's going to need a week of dermal regenerative treatment, and they had to replace one of her kidneys and her spleen, but she's going to be fine and ready for physical therapy soon. Ashley's wounds were more severe. Her broken arm will require extensive bone grafting, but that's a relatively simple procedure here at Huerta. The real problem was the head trauma she sustained and the resulting swelling to her brain. She's out of surgery now and has been moved to intensive care, but she's not out of the woods just yet." Chakwas glanced between Shepard and Liara, giving them a motherly look. "These are some of the best doctors in the galaxy. I'm confident she'll make a full recovery."

Shepard inhaled deeply and nodded. "I want you back on the Normandy," he said after a moment's thought. "We need you."

"There's no place I'd rather be, Commander," she said. "However, I still have standing orders keeping me here on the Citadel."

Shepard waved a hand. "I'll take care of that. Get your things together and any staff you want to bring along. We've got plenty of room. We're docked at Bay D24."

Chakwas smiled and nodded. "I'll be there. But first, let me have a look at that arm," she said, eyeing the temporary cast on his forearm. "Hmm, more broken bones I see," she said, examining is injured limb.

Liara gave the woman a fond smile before looking at Shepard. "What did Sparatus want?"

"Our help," he said. "We're going to Palaven. There's a Primarch that needs rescuing."

"I see. Well, that should be fun."

"I'll get this arm sorted for you once we're back on the Normandy, Commander," Chakwas said. "But, in the meantime, please refrain from misusing it before I can properly set the bones."

"No promises, doc." His comm then chirped and he placed a finger against his ear, concentrating on the incoming message. "It's Admiral Kaneda's office," he said. "They've established communication with Admiral Hackett. I have to go."

The two women, some of his closest friends in the galaxy, glanced at him sympathetically. "They can wait a couple more minutes," Chakwas said. "Why don't you pop in and see Ashley first. She's still unconscious, but I think it will do you both some good."

Shepard gave her a tired, grateful smile. "I'll do that," he said and glanced between Chakwas and Liara. "I'll see you both back at the Normandy."

The Citadel, Presidium, Alliance Naval Command Operations Center

"The Councilor's walking a pretty thin line, Shepard," Admiral Steven Hackett said.

The Admiral's image was grainy and garbled thanks to the patchwork communication network he was broadcasting through. Piggybacking half a dozen different comm buoy nodes, the signal was spliced through the secure Alliance channels terminating at the Citadel Naval Command Ops Center. "But if it offers him political cover to send you out as a Spectre instead of officially requesting our help, then I don't much give a damn. We need to lock up a mutual defense pact with the Hierarchy and start laying the groundwork toward bringing the salarians and asari onboard. We'll all get picked off one by one if we don't stand together."

Shepard was standing in front of a bank of vid displays within one of the private comm rooms of the Ops Center. He was flanked by Councilor Donnel Udina and Admiral Hiroyuki Kaneda, local commander of all human naval assets within Citadel space, including the Terran vessels assigned to the Citadel Fleet.

It wasn't lost on Shepard that he was in the company of the three of the most powerful and influential humans left alive. With the joint chiefs back on Earth likely dead, Hackett was now the Alliance's supreme military commander. Admiral Kaneda was next in line, in both authority and experience, and lorded over much of the ultra-strategically important Citadel space region. And Udina, with the entire Systems Alliance Parliament destroyed at Arcturus, represented the highest ranking political office left functioning within the Systems Alliance, as unsettling as that thought was.

"The initial reports that have come in so far indicate the turians aren't doing a whole helluva lot better than we did at Arcturus or Earth," Hackett continued. "But they've got the numbers to absorb some pretty heavy punishment. It's vital that we start coordinating with them soon and begin pooling our resources and strategy."

"Yes, yes," Udina said impatiently. "But why were we and the turians targeted while the salarians and asari remain unscathed?" He turned to Shepard. "You've been claiming for years that these things are after all organic species."

"Our initial Intelligence indicates the enemy advanced out from the Harsa System," Kaneda said. "Human and turian space are both within reasonable proximity to the batarian core worlds. But it seems reasonable to assume that our homeworlds and key strongholds were prioritized due to the combined military strength our two races possess."

"I agree with the Admiral," Hackett added "The asari and the salarians may have the advanced technology that makes their ships and armaments individually lethal, but they simply don't have the raw numbers of the Alliance and the Hierarchy. Together, we represent the most obvious threat to the enemy."

"Our abundance of numbers and resources didn't much help Earth or Arcturus," Udina grumbled.

"It's no accident they chose Harsa," Shepard said. "The Reapers used the batarian home system as a staging area for more than a week ahead of the invasion, taking advantage of our limited surveillance in the region to consolidate their ships and build up their ground forces."

"More disturbingly, it appears that batarian defenses were sabotaged from within," Kaneda said.

"Willing collaborators?" Udina said. "With these… Reapers?"

"It's something more insidious than that," Shepard said. "We saw it before with Saren Arterius and my crew came across it again late last year, onboard a long dead Reaper carcass. Their ability to indoctrinate whole populations, turning people against their own, may be even more dangerous than the raw firepower they can deploy."

"Gentlemen," Hackett said, "I think we can all agree that they caught us with our assess hanging out. We didn't allow for the possibility that a force this large would simply bypass the outer defenses within Exodus and blitz the home system. No sane conventional military commander would jeopardize supply lines in that manner and leave their flanks exposed and vulnerable."

"It appears we will need to adapt our thinking when assessing this enemy's strategy," Admiral Kaneda said evenly. "There seems to be little in the way of conventional military doctrine that applies to their tactics."

"They're not threatened by us," Shepard said. "We and the turians might have the numbers to make them take notice and prioritize our civilizations ahead of other targets, but, in the end, we don't amount to much more than an annoyance. They cut through the fleets and orbital defenses in Sol like a hot knife through butter."

Hackett nodded grimly. "I've reviewed the combat data you brought back from Earth, Shepard. It's not a pretty picture, but I was pleased that the Jon Grissom at least enjoyed a limited measure of success against the Sovereign class capital ships, not unlike her sister ships did at Arcturus. The Montgomery stood toe to toe with five of the bastards, managing to destroy one of them, before she was overwhelmed." A dark shadow crossed his face. "I had to sacrifice her, along with the entirety of the Second Fleet, to buy the rest of the fleets time to withdrawal. It's not a moment I'll remember fondly."

"It was an impossible situation, Admiral," Kaneda said. "But the Grissom class ships are everything we hoped they would be. Unfortunately, we have only two remaining to face what may be thousands of these monsters."

"Three, actually," Hackett corrected him. "I've just learned that the Boudicca managed to get clear of the Magni shipyards over Terra Nova and retreat from the system along with the majority of the Sixth. It was a minor miracle they got away at all. She was barely spaceworthy when the Reapers appeared in the Asgard System and her main engines had only just finished FTL calibration a week ago. The ship doesn't even have a permanently assigned captain yet. I've broken off a pair of frigates to escort her to Bekenstein." He looked to Kaneda. "Admiral, I'll need you to prioritize her completion and armament. That shipyard isn't designed to accommodate a dreadnought, but we've got to make it work. Divert however many engineers and whatever other resources you need to finish the job."

"It will be done, Admiral," Kaneda said and inclined head slightly.

"Any luck re-establishing comms with Admiral Anderson?" Shepard said.

"No," Hackett said, "There are still active QEC nodes scattered around the globe, but Anderson hasn't managed to reach one yet. With the enemy having achieved air and space superiority, mobility will likely be an issue for his people. But don't count him out just yet. Anderson's one tough bastard."

"That he is," Shepard said and smirked.

"But unfortunately there's also been no word yet on the refugee fleets that Captain Navarro and the remnants of the Home Fleet were escorting out of the system," Hackett added. "But it could be weeks before they're able to reach an alternative relay or even tap into an active comm buoy node to contact us."

"I know Captain Navarro well," Kaneda said. "She is a most capable commander. I have the utmost confidence in her ability to safeguard those people."

"Agreed," Hackett said. "I was damn relieved to learn she'd survived." He then looked more squarely at Shepard. "Shepard, this goes without saying, but I've officially recognized and validated Admiral Anderson's order to reinstate you to active duty within the Alliance Navy and confirmed your command of the SSV Normandy. However, I'm taking that one step further and promoting you to the rank of Captain."

Shepard looked taken aback. "Sir?" He hesitated. "Don't take this as ungrateful, Admiral, but I'm barely three days from reactivation and you're promoting me?"

"That's correct, Captain. As far as I'm concerned, it's a long overdue formality. What you've accomplished thus far in your career far and away exceeds the expectations of an N7 Marine and, frankly, puts most of your contemporaries to shame. It's time your rank match the level of influence you wield in this Navy." His expression then darkened. "On top of that, we've lost nearly sixty percent of our experienced commanders in the first wave of the invasion. We're not going to be stingy with the promotions of qualified men and women."

"Well, thank you, sir."

Hackett waved him off. "Gratitude isn't necessary, Shepard. You've earned this. I only wish I was there in person to pin the silver eagles on your collar myself. Instead, Admiral Kaneda will have that honor. But I want you to know that I'm proud of the way you've handled a very difficult last few months." He paused for a moment. "Now, what can you tell us about the data you and Doctor T'Soni extracted from the Mars Archives?"

"Unfortunately, not much," Shepard said. "Liara's initial analysis was stalled by some incredibly complex encryption. But, as she explained it, that's potentially a good sign. We know the Archives site was a Prothean research post of some sort, setup to observe and collect information on our ancestors. The security applied to this data is far beyond anything else found on Mars. It suggests that we're dealing with something much more sensitive than anthropological records. She thinks it's military in nature and the timestamp dates it to right around the Reaper's last arrival, fifty-thousand years ago."

"You're grasping at straws," Udina said dismissively. "For all you know that data may be nothing more than a Prothean governmental org chart or a chronicle of their royal family's dating habits."

Shepard glared at the older man. "It's a massive amount of data, Councilor. I'm pretty confident it's not a Prothean tabloid or family tree. Liara believes it's something important. She has the expertise and I trust her judgment."

"The trouble Cerberus went to in order to secure a copy of that data supports Doctor T'Soni's assessment," Hackett said. "And, simply put, with the enemy we're facing, we cannot dismiss any avenue that might provide a method to combat these Reapers, no matter how far-fetched. Honestly, I cannot envision any scenario we defeat this enemy with our known weapons and technologies. They're simply too advanced."

"Liara and I will do everything we can to get the answers, Admiral," Shepard said. "And, with your permission, I'll be bringing her onboard the Normandy on a permanent basis. We have resources onboard that will expedite her research."

"You have it, Captain," Hackett said. "Your dual status as Council Spectre and Alliance officer affords you a unique level of autonomy in gathering any people and resources you feel will be assets to the cause—within reason, of course. But in the meantime, I'm officially sanctioning your intervention into the turian theatre. It's a formality, given the directive you received from Sparatus. But if things go sideways out there, you're authorized to undertake any actions necessary to complete the mission, get your ship out of the warzone, and negotiate on behalf of the Systems Alliance militaries."

"I understand, sir."

"Good. Get in and get out quick with that Primarch, Shepard. We need to solidify this alliance if we have any hope of saving Earth."

"We'll get it done, Admiral."

"I know you will, son," he said and nodded to the other men. "Hackett out."

Udina rounded on the two officers with a look of contempt. "Well, this was enlightening. It's comforting to know our military has put such faith in the scribbling's of a species that's been extinct for eons. If you'll excuse me, I have the continuity of our government to attend to." He then stormed out of the room without another word.

Shepard watched him leave and shook his head. "He's still an asshole, but he's not wrong. We're definitely fumbling in the dark right now." He then glanced over at the much more formal and composed Admiral Kaneda and immediately regretted his familiar comments.

But Kaneda simply returned a wry smile and reached in his pocket, producing a small box. "Udina is a man of limited vision and constrained by the bureaucracy of his position," he said, opening the box to reveal a set of shiny metal captain's eagles. "He will be effective in administering the Systems Alliance government, but he cannot be expected to appreciate the creative measures men like us will need to employ to win this war."

Shepard nodded slightly as Kaneda carefully pinned his new rank insignias upon his collar. "Well, Admiral Anderson seemed reasonably comfortable with allowing him to assume the Councilor's seat, so I suppose that's something."

"Indeed," Kaneda said, pocketing Shepard's previous silver oak leafs and stiffening his posture. "I hereby formally recognize your promotion to the rank of Captain and acknowledge your status as commanding officer of the Systems Alliance warship, Normandy."

Shepard snapped to attention and saluted. "Thank you, sir."

Kaneda returned the salute and nodded. "Good hunting, Captain," he said and turned to leave the comm room.

"Sir," Shepard said, stopping the Admiral. "We came out of Sol with barely a skeleton crew aboard. I have some personnel carried over from the Normandy's refit at Yeager Station that I'm keeping on, but I'm still down some key posts, including XO. I have a few people in mind to fill positions, but I need your authorization for their transfers." He produced a datapad from his hip pocket and handed it to the Admiral.

Kaneda took the datapad and began to scroll through the information. "Yes, I was troubled to hear that Lieutenant Commander Williams was wounded on Mars. She's a fine officer," he said.

"She'll be back on her feet before long," Shepard said. "Of that, I have no doubt."

After a moment, Kaneda looked up and met Shepard's expectant gaze. "I have no issue with the assignment of Major Chakwas as Chief Medical Officer," he said. "However, these two engineers you have listed here are still under official inquiry for their past association with Cerberus. I'm sure you didn't fail to notice that Admiral Hackett urged you to be cautious with the people you bring on board. The Alliance is in a precarious position, Captain, dealing with the Illusive Man's challenge to our authority over human interests. After what occurred on Mars, we cannot be seen to tolerate those that abandon our ideals."

"I understand your reservations, Admiral. But Daniels and Donnelly are experts on the Normandy's propulsion systems. There's no one in the fleet that can match their experience. And I simply don't have time to wait for someone else to get up to speed. Besides, the charges against them are minor breaches in protocol. If the Navy can welcome me back into the fold, there's no reason to punish them further in a time of war."

Kaneda gave Shepard a long, searching look. "Very well. I'll approve their release and immediate assignment," he said and tapped out a few commands onto the datapad. "It's fortunate they're both being held at the Naval Judge Advocate's offices on Bekenstein. I'll expedite their transport and have them delivered to the Normandy before you depart for Palaven."

"Thank you, sir."

"Will there be anything else, Captain?"

"No sir. I'm good to go."

The Citadel, Systems Alliance Naval Docks, Bay D24

After spending another two-plus hours at Command Ops, getting up to speed on all the available intel pouring in from the conflict zones and working to fill vital posts onboard the Normandy, Shepard finally returned to Bay D24 to begin preparations to leave for the Trebia System.

Making his way toward the boarding tunnel, he saw Liara standing next to a familiar looking drell man and casting a critical eye at a collection of deployment crates stacked up around her.

Shepard strode up to them and extended a hand. "Feron, it's good to see you again."

Feron shook the Captain's hand and bowed his head respectfully. "And you, Commander."

"I believe It's Captain now," Liara beamed, eyeing Shepard's new rank insignias. "Word travels fast on the Citadel," she said and shrugged innocently.

"Right," Shepard said and smirked, eyeing the containers. "This everything?"

"Oh, no," Liara said. "It's just the last of it. We've already transferred the rest onboard."

"You coming along, Feron?" Shepard asked, glancing at the drell. "You'd be welcome and we could definitely use the help."

Feron exchanged a quick look with Liara. "I'd be honored, Shepard. But I have business to attend to here on the Citadel. Perhaps after you return I'll be able to assist on board." He then turned back to Liara. "I'll get the networks aligned with your systems on the Normandy as soon as you've brought everything online. Be safe out there, Liara."

"I will, Feron," she said and smiled. "Thank you."

Feron shook Shepard's hand again, cast another quick glance at Liara, and walked off back toward the security checkpoint in the distance.

Shepard looked at Liara and smiled, noting her gaze had lingered on Feron until the crowd had swallowed him up.

"What?" she said, catching Shepard's stare.

"Nothing," he said, "nothing at all."

Liara frowned and crinkled her forehead. "Uh huh."

"You need help with this stuff?"

"No, its fine, Shepard. I have two servicemen that were assisting in bringing the equipment onboard. They should be back in a minute."

"Alright," he said. "I better get onboard and see how Vega managed with our ordnance and supplies."

"John," Liara said and stepped closer. Her expression had turned more serious. "I spoke with Anita Goyle. She hasn't heard from Miranda in more than four days." She frowned in frustration, but tried to look positive. "But communications between here and Sigurd's Cradle are badly disrupted. It doesn't mean anything. She has a good, fast ship and Kasumi is with her. I'm certain they're fine."

Shepard looked at her for a long moment, nodding his head slightly. "Thanks, Liara."

Liara continued to study him, biting her lip in concern, when a human woman leading a floating, automated professional vid camera emerged from the crowd and approached.

"Captain, Shepard," the woman called as she sauntered forward. "Diana Allers, Alliance News Network. Can I have a word?"

Liara stared at the attractive woman, noting her overly tight outfit, and made a face. She then glanced up at Shepard disapprovingly. "I think I'll go see what's keeping those two servicemen," she said. "See you onboard, Captain." She then turned and strode up the boarding tunnel.

"I'm not granting any interviews right now, Miss Allers," Shepard said, raising his hand. "You'll have to go through the Navy's PR department if you want any of my time."

"Captain," she said and put a hand on her hip, "I'm not Khalisah al-Jilani. I'm not looking to put you on the spot and grab cheap headlines. I'm a war correspondent."

"Okay, whatever. You still need to go through Navy PR."

"Captain Shepard," she repeated, "I know you're wary of reporters and have had some bad experiences in the past, but that's not me. I'm interested in the war, not calling you out for the company you keep or the unconventional way you've gone about your business," she said and crossed her arms under her chest. "Listen, there's all kinds of stories about what took place on this ship over the last year and your association with Cerberus, nearly all of which I know to be total and complete bullshit. But the stories and the innuendo have hurt you and the Alliance's credibility. You need a new narrative. I can help with that. And I need to be on the Normandy."

Shepard gave her an amused look. "Well, you're obviously well informed, Miss Allers."

"I am," she said confidently. "And extremely well connected. In fact, I can get onboard any Alliance vessel in the fleet with just one quick vid call. And I wouldn't have to plead with those ship's captains to get my clearance."

"But instead you're here, pleading with me to get on board my ship even though you know I couldn't give a shit about any fleet directive to accommodate war reporters."

"Exactly. The autonomy you have is unprecedented. And you're a fucking Council Spectre. You and the Normandy are the story."

He stared at her for a long moment and frowned. "We'll likely be involved in missions that may never be declassified or reportable to the public."

"I completely understand. You'll have final veto power over all of my content before broadcast. You can check with Admiral Kaneda if you want. That man's about as by-the-book as they come, but he knows I keep my word and report the truth—fairly. There's Admiral Caine and Admiral Mlangeni as well. They'll gladly speak to my discretion."

"Admiral Caine is dead," Shepard said matter-of-factly. "Went down with the Tai Shan near Jupiter."

"Fuck. I hadn't heard that yet. I'm sorry. I liked him. Funny man. An unapologetic pussy hound, but honest and kind."

"Okay, Allers," he said. "I'll allow it. But we're pushing off in less than three hours. I won't be waiting around for you."

She glanced down at her feet, where a small footlocker bobbed eagerly on a floating baggage trolley. "I travel light, Captain. I'm ready right now."

Shepard sighed and raised his arm, activating his Omni-tool. "I'm processing your clearance now. See the quartermaster on Deck 5. He'll set you up with a sleeping berth and issue you a few sets of standard Navy BDUs," he said, glancing down at her impossibly tight skirt and the pair of come-fuck-me heels she was wearing. "I can't have you along for an active combat tour wearing that." But as soon as the words escaped his mouth, he felt like a hypocrite, picturing Miranda in the ultra-tight outfits she commonly wore during their mission against the Collectors.

Allers raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Please, Captain. Give me some credit. I don't make a habit of entering a war zone wearing my Miu Miu platform heels, a miniskirt, and with my tits hanging out. This is strictly for when I'm slumming it with the corporate inter-species networks," she said, waving a hand out in front of her, gesturing at her outfit. "I have suitable attire with me and will happily adhere to your regs while in the common areas."

He laughed. "Fair enough. Welcome aboard."

Diana saluted. "Thank you, Captain. See you onboard." She then strode past him and up the gangway to the boarding tunnel, her hips swaying side to side and her floating camera and baggage following behind.

Shepard stole another long, gratuitous look at her as she walked away from him. He smiled, shaking his head slightly. I may be a dead man when Miranda meets that one.

He then inhaled deeply and surveyed the activity on the docks. Casting his eyes over the crowds, searching the faces of the men and women rushing by, he found himself scanning for a flash of raven-black hair and a pair of sparkling blue eyes. It was futile, he knew. Miranda was likely thousands of light years away from the Citadel. Still, he couldn't help but imagine her suddenly emerging from the throng, striding toward him, as if they had been merely making a routine stop on the station while tracking their next lead.

Finally, reluctantly, he turned and marched up the boarding tunnel and into the Normandy.

Illium, Nos Astra

Half a galaxy away, Miranda sat within Chief Detective Anaya's cramped office in the central police plaza of Nos Astra, delicately fingering the N7 dog tags she wore around her neck.

With Anaya's help, she was combing through the mountains of vid surveillance footage from Illium's primary starports, tracking the whereabouts of the wayward Doctor Brynn Cole and the other ex-Cerberus scientists that had defected along with her.

"There she is again," Anaya said and pointed to the holo screen. "Timestamp's the same, more than three months ago. She and her companions chartered a transport to the Fortis System." She keyed in a few more rapid commands on her console. "We never would have spotted them if not for the facial recognition software. Their documents and falsified identities were really good."

"These are some of the most brilliant humans alive," Miranda said. "They're quite capable of concealing themselves effectively—at least for a time."

Anaya nodded. "Okay, so here's where it's interesting. Their flight set out on schedule and they were tracked all the way to the local relay. But then they never reach Fortis. The local authorities have no record of the vessel ever arriving at or passing through any of the monitored starports." She cycled through another several holo screens with a wave of her hand. "That's where my contact at Serrice Intelligence comes in. They've got a spy drone in the region that caught the ship's transponder here," she pointed to a plot on a small galaxy map display, "in the Arrae System."

"Arrae…" Miranda muttered, searching her memory. "Oh."

Anaya raised an eyebrow. "Am I missing something?" she said. "There's not much out there. You think you know where they're heading?"

"Perhaps," Miranda said, standing up from her chair. "Thank you, Detective. You've been very helpful."

The nearby office doors then opened and Oriana and Kasumi burst in.

"Any luck?" Miranda asked.

"Yes!" Oriana said excitedly. "We just got through. Anita says the Normandy arrived on the Citadel just over twenty-four hours ago. Shepard was in command. He's okay, Randa."

Miranda smiled slightly, willing herself to remain calm while the relief washed over her. "Are they still there?"

Oriana bit her lip and shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. They've already left. But Liara was onboard when they arrived. She went back out with them, as well."

"I see. Does Anita know where they've gone?"

Oriana nodded. "It's a classified Spectre mission, but she made some calls and found out they're heading for Palaven."

Miranda processed the news for another few seconds and glanced at Kasumi. Her Japanese friend was still acting a little distant toward her, avoiding looking her in the eye, after the incident with Kenson.

"Whoa," Anaya said behind her. "You might want to have a look at this." She spun a vid monitor around so Miranda and the others could see. "It's a flash report from Alliance Internal Security."

Miranda gazed down and saw her own face staring back at her. Her image, represented from several different angles and with multiple alternative hair styles, was prominently featured on the Alliance Navy Internal Security bulletin. The title, 'Wanted for Questioning, Suspected Terrorist,' crawled along the heading, cycling through a dozen different languages.

"Uh oh," Oriana said. "I'm guessing this isn't good."

Miranda sighed. "Cerberus already saw to it months ago that my cover identities and certain mission dossiers were leaked to all the major intelligence organizations. This is simply making that exposure more known to the general public."

"Yep," Anaya said, scrutinizing the data on her screen. "You've definitely been bumped up the Most Wanted list. The classified notes here say that Cerberus attacked a research facility in the Sol System, planet Mars, right around the time of the invasion." She glanced up at Miranda. "They're looking to round up all the usual suspects, but this is really just informational for us. They've got no jurisdiction outside of Alliance territory or on the Citadel itself. It's the bounty hunters you'll want to be careful of."

"Lovely," Miranda said. "Thank you again, Detective." She turned to leave, but then Anaya quickly stood up from her chair to hold her up.

"Miss Lawson, these Reapers?" Anaya said, her voice tense. "Is it as bad as the news vids are saying?"

"No," Miranda said, glancing back at the asari. "It's far worse."

Anaya stared back at her for a few seconds, knowing full well that the black-haired operative wasn't someone likely to exaggerate. "What do we do if they show up?"

"If they appear in this system? Run. Take your family and get as far away as you can."

Anaya swallowed and nodded slowly. "I understand."

Miranda gave her a taut smile and then swept out of the office, Kasumi and Oriana at her side.

"They attacked Mars?" Oriana said a few seconds later, as the three women strode purposefully out onto the busy mezzanine.

"They must have been after the same thing Liara was searching for," Kasumi said. "At least we know she got out of there safely."

"What's our next move, Randa? Back to the Citadel?"

"No," Miranda said, glancing about suspiciously at the faces in the crowded commercial district. "Not yet. We need to go to the Arrae System first."

"You think Cole is there?" Kasumi asked.

"I do. And I believe she's in far greater danger than she realizes."

Author's note:

A lot the content in this chapter is transitional and to reset some of the foundation for where we go from here. But I also wanted to sprinkle in some more dialogue with Traynor. I'll be featuring her a bit, in a periphery sense, much like the treatment Oriana gets. And, after a bit of self-debate, I'm keeping Allers in the story too. Obviously, I'm making her a little saucier, because, you know, why not? She's supposed to be a damn war correspondent, not an IGN host. And she's not around simply for the extra eye candy either. I have an idea for something important for her to do later on down the line.

I didn't see the point in rehashing the Mars Archives mission. For the purposes of this fic, most of the canonical elements of that part of the ME3 story remain largely intact with the key difference being the absence of any overt reference to a mysterious Reaper killing machine that nobody knows what it is but everyone's eager to build. That part, at least for now, is nixed.

Instead, At this point, the most pressing motivation for Shepard is the effort to secure a greater alliance with the other major species in the galaxy while the fleets regroup after the devastating invasion. I can't say with absolute certainty that the Crucible is eliminated altogether, but if it does show up it will be much later and in a different form of the canon story version. Sorry to be vague, but I don't want to leak any spoilers. I'll just say for now that I have a couple different ideas I'm kicking around on how to conclude the story and resolve the war, sans the Crucible.

Housekeeping note: I suddenly realized I was spelling the ME character Jon Grissom as John Grissom. Correcting that moving forward and will work on revising the previous chapters that reference the SSV Jon Grissom.

And I keep promising to get Miranda and Shepard back together soon, but I can now say for certain that that's happening next chapter!

Thanks for reading and reviewing. Cheers.

4/13/15 - Some minor clean up and editing.