A/N: People have recently asked about my pace of updates.
Today – April 12th – is the anniversary of my wife's death. The original OSABC was written to distract me from the pain of that, and around this time each year I tend to distract myself with writing once more. Perhaps it's just a habit now. I don't write this to generate sympathy, but to talk about something else. Make sure you hug your loved ones today. You will never know when they are going to be gone.
Trust me, the alternative sucks. She used to nag me about not writing more, since she told me I was good at it, I used to write her little fan fictions for her favorite shows to correct the fuckups she didn't like in them. I guess this is more of the same.
Anyway. Enough of me rambling. You came here for awesome, so here it is.
As with the last chapters of ATTWN, ANs will be shorter and rarely comment on the coming chapter. I would point out that I've made the full text of ATTWN available for download at my site logicalpremise dot org if you are interested.
Reviews are always welcome.
'I have to admit, having an angry Shepard staring down at you with a clenched fist is not exactly something you can face totally calmly.'
-Jack Harper to Trellani
The first sensation Shepard could feel was cool air, blowing gently across her face. It seemed to caress her, carrying with it the scent of clean linen, and a bare hint of something sweeter, like perfume.
She blinked sleepily, mind fogged. She must have overslept. As usual, the part of her that would normally feel for Liara reached out.
A jagged sense of red pain for the barest split second was all she felt, that and nothingness. She sat bolt upright, eyes flying open, head moving back and forth as she looked around.
She was in some sort of hospital room, she could tell that right away.
The floors were pale wood decking, the walls light pastel blue and the ceiling had expensive, hexagonal lights, but she was in a medical bed – if one more comfortable and elaborate than usual – with a big stack of monitors, haptic panels and what not next to it.
She realized a moment later she was nearly naked, rather than wearing the usual hospital gown, she had on thin black boxers and a sports bra on. Her eyes snapped around the room, and she frowned. Her vision was… strange. Too clear. Her eyeballs felt gritty.
Her mouth was dry, but her lips were… they felt springy when she ran her tongue over them. A tooth she'd lost in her youth was somehow replaced. She flung the soft white covers off of her body.
She glanced over herself, calming only slightly. None of her goddamned limbs had been hacked off, at least. That was good. She reached for her biotics and felt a tingle, but nothing more. Her hands shot to the base of her neck and found the empty port where her bio-amp would slot in.
She frowned. There was supposed to be a ring of scar tissue around the port, from the clumsy hack job Doc Bonesy did back on Tenth Street, the scars the Alliance doctors never bothered to fix when redoing her port. She was still muddled, and scared – she couldn't feel Liara at all.
She glanced around, but the far door was still shut. The instruments by her bed, she saw now, were on, but not connected – no wireless data pads were stuck to her anywhere. She pushed her hair out of her face, frowning as it seemed longer than she remembered, and slid out of the bed, getting to her feet. There was a trashcan by the bed, empty.
She blinked and swayed as she stood. She felt… heavy. More balanced, yet… weird. She moved her fingers, watching the interplay of muscles below her skin, and was more confused. Scars were missing, one on her left ring finger. The ugly ones on her thigh.
She was more confused because the pair of scars on her stomach – one a gift of Saren, the other an old war wound from Dirth – were still there. She turned her head, glancing over her shoulder – her ink form the Reds was still in place, faded and broken up by a narrow slash.
She padded over to the wall sink on the nearest wall, and the lights around the mirror came on. She stared at herself for long seconds, turning this way and that.
Most of the scars on her body were gone. Not the ones from battle… just the reminders of her torture in her childhood. The ugly puckered mark from Benezia's warp sword was there, but the barely-there ache it always gave her when she pressed down on it was missing.
Her body didn't feel right. She was always in good shape, but never in this good of shape. Every muscle on her body stood out in highlight, as if tensed. Her skin was creamy and flawless, not dry and flaky at the knees and oily in places. She turned sideways, eyes narrowing.
She was pretty sure her breasts were bigger. What the fuck?
She went to the door, trying the handle, finding it locked. The door itself wasn't the usual flimsy wooden barrier in most hospitals, this was a thick slab of metal with no little window, and the door frame around it was heavily reinforced. She frowned, then glanced back at the bed. It too was supported with more beams and struts than a normal bed.
The room had no windows, only the bed, the sink, the mirror, a slide-away door leading to a toilet, a pair of comfortable looking chairs, and a wall locker. She frowned, and headed to the locker, opening it with a single tug.
Inside hung a single set of clothing – plain white t-shirt, a pair of loose, silky black pants, a long sleeved cardigan of some kind, and a set of hair ties. Thin ankle high black socks and a pair of flats sat at the bottom of the locker.
On the small shelf above the clothing were four items. Her notebook, a haptic picture frame, turned off, what looked like an omni-tool bracelet, and her bonding bracelet.
Memory hit her. The Normandy. She'd been on the Normandy. She remembered fire, pain, tears – then nothing.
What the fuck had happened?
Given little choice, she did the obvious thing. She got dressed. The clothing fit her exactly right, and she noticed they were loose enough not to hug her body. Her notebook seemed fine, although one corner of the cover was stained with blood. She frowned at that.
She flicked the haptic picture frame on and it displayed an image of Liara, smiling gently. Shepard swallowed, worried, and cut it off, slipping into the single pocket on the cardigan sweater, then picked up the omni-tool and her bonding bracelet.
The omni-tool connected without a hitch as she placed it and her bonding bracelet on her arms, a cool female voice speaking.
"Sara Shepard, you have obviously awakened. There is a great deal of information you must be ready to absorb, but we want this to be as easy for you as possible. This is a recorded message, so please don't try to reply."
"When you are dressed and feel ready to leave this room – I would suggest making sure you use the restroom first – walk to the door. The omni-tool will unlock it. Follow the corridor to the door at the far end of the hallway – the other doors will only open into empty rooms, but if you must look, go ahead."
The omni-tool message cut out, and Shepard frowned. This almost felt like the way the Alliance was treating her after her near break at Torfan. She wondered if she'd lost her mind at some point. Was this a mental hospital? How did she get here? What happened to the Normandy, her crew? Liara?
She sighed. No point standing here like an idiot. She didn't need to use the restroom, so she walked out the door, tucking her notebook into the waistband of her pants in the small of her back.
There were two doors on either side of her own, all ajar, and then a short expanse of walls – bare steel – that curved inwards to meet the edge of a corridor stretching in front of her. The walls of the corridor were pierced by heavy armaglass portholes, and she walked forward, looking out of one.
Bright lights illuminated a seafloor, waving coral and strange sickle-shaped fish with no eyes moving through the green-tinted water. She was in some underwater base? Most mental hospitals weren't built underwater.
"Okay, what in the actual fuck is going on here?"
There was no answer, and she huffed and walked quickly through the hallway. She heard a rumbling sound, and a heavy metal door slid down behind her, sealing off the room she'd awoken in, bare blank metal.
Well, that was creepy.
"…Great. I'm in some nutjob's secret fucking ocean base." She wished she had a weapon, or her bio-amp, but she remembered Ahern's stern advice – everything was a weapon, including her own body.
She reached the far door, which slid open, and stepped through it.
The room she was now in, as the door shut behind her and locked, was strange indeed. It was large, twenty by twenty, and the far wall was a thick but clear armaglass barrier pierced by a single archway currently blocked by a kinetic barrier. The floor was more hardwood decking – expensive shit – and a thick rug of plain black wool in hexagonical shape sat in the middle of the room, trimmed in burnt orange.
A comfortable leather chair flanked by a small black metallic table sat in the middle of the rug. A pack of expensive looking cigarettes, an ashtray, a lighter, a bottle of scotch, and a single crystal cut tumbler sat on the table. A low shelf below the table surface held a small , clear plastic bucket filled with ice.
The armaglass was currently smoked and dark, and the voice sounded from a speaker implanted in the wall, the same voice as before. "Please, have a seat. Have a smoke or a drink if that will settle your nerves, Ms. Shepard. I'll be down very shortly to speak with you."
She gritted her teeth. "Am I a prisoner?"
There was no response. She stewed in her own frustration for nearly a minute before giving an exasperated sigh and sitting in the chair. It was extremely comfortable, with leather padding and curved, sturdy feeling steel armrests.
Another twenty seconds passed, and she finally snatched the pack of cigarettes, examining it.
They were an expensive Bekenstein brand, one she'd smoked a few times in her time with the 2 RRU. Someone had studied her pretty well. She lit one, inhaling deeply, the fragrance of the cigarette crisply moving through her body.
A few seconds later, she heard a muted thump, and the armaglass began changing hues, before going suddenly transparent.
The room beyond was a mirror of her own, with a single heavy doorway leading out. Sitting in a chair to her left was an asari. She wore a long black gown with a repeating pattern of burnt orange hexagons diagonally down the bodice, a gray-black shawl with a hexagon pattern to it, and simple slippers on her feet. She was a darker blue than Liara, with complicated, almost sinister looking black facial markings, narrow cruel purple eyes, and thin, curved lips.
Where Liara was elegant and innocent, this asari looked sophisticated and sensual, but there was a hard edge to her gaze that made Shepard nervous.
To Shepard's right sat a human woman. She had clear green eyes and a wide smile, even if her jaw was a touch prominent. Messy red hair perched atop her head, and she wore a white lab coat over a black jumpsuit of some kind, with combat boots on her feet. She had a data-padd in her hands, and looked a bit nervous even with the smile.
Shepard glanced between them. "Okay, where the fuck am I and what the fuck is going on?"
The asari woman spoke first. "Ms. Shepard, my name is Trellani."
Shepard's eyes widened. She recognized that name, from her time with Liara. "You're some kind of asari terrorist? The fuck is going on?"
The asari gave her a smile that didn't comfort Shepard in the least. "That is… one way to look at my past history, I suppose. Although that would be about as fair as calling you a genocidal murderer for your role in destroying the rachni. Those who do not know you should not judge you. I would ask the same courtesy."
Shepard didn't like her tone, but shrugged. "You aren't with the Asari Republic, or the Alliance."
The smile widened. "No."
Shepard sat back. "So I'm a prisoner."
The eyes danced with mirth. "No. Well, technically, at least until we've finished this conversation, you are. But once we're done and you've spoken with our superior, if you really want to leave, we'll be happy to let you go. We have no legal rights to detain you."
Shepard narrowed her eyes. The subtle stress on the word legal made her worried. "Alright. I interrupted you. Go on."
Trellani inclined her head and made a gesture of siari. "As I said, my name is Trellani. My associate is Doctor Kelly Chambers, a psychologist and councilor. We are here to attempt to answer the many questions you have and offer you an opportunity."
Shepard folded her arms. "Is that so? First question – where the fuck have you put my wife?"
Trellani's eyes flickered with something like pain and pity, and the human woman licked her lips and spoke, her voice quiet, but with a sympathetic tone. "Ms. Shepard, I have some bad news for you. Actually, I have quite a bit of bad news for you."
Shepard felt dread curl into her stomach. "No. No no no. She's not dead. She can't be dead. I was… I was on the Normandy. I got her away. I remember that."
She gripped the edge of the chair. "Did they kill her? Why? They were coming for ME!"
Chambers spread her hands slowly. "Ma'am, what you remember is correct. The people who attacked your ship left after destroying the Normandy, and Liara T'Soni escaped unharmed."
Shepard paused, confused and scared and upset. "Wait, what?"
Kelly took a deep breath. "Please, I ask you just to listen. Your ship was shot down. You were still on it, and you impacted with the planet Alchera, but your last minute attack on the alien attackers drove them away. You lost only nine crew members in the attack, all ops techs."
Kelly continued, the green eyes holding hers, not looking away. "Liara and the rest of your friends returned to Alliance space… but the Alliance did not recover your body from the wreckage."
Shepard felt as if she was dizzy. "My… body?" She paused. "Wait. I'm… dead? Am I me? What… am I some kind of clone?"
Trellani spoke, a single sharp word. "No." A pause. "You died. Your Alliance did not want to risk combat with Aria to recover your body. The Shadow Broker schemed with certain parties to recover your body and sell it to the Collectors."
Shepard's mouth trembled.
Trellani continued, her voice cool and hard. "Your corpse was shipped to Omega. But your bondmate, along with several of your friends and some assistance from the group we are with, assaulted the station. We recovered your body, and fled. In the fighting, your bondmate was killed. Along with Garrus Vakarian, Telanya Nasan, and Beatrice Shields."
Pain washed through Shepard's mind. "I…"
She buried her face in her hands. Liara was dead. She struggled to comprehend that statement, and her mind just refused to do so. After a long moment, she exhaled and looked up. "If I died, why am I talking to you?"
Kelly spoke again. "Our organization revived you."
Shepard's eyes snapped to meet hers. "I was fucking dead! You can't bring back the dead!"
Trellani nodded. "Yes, I know. I saw you upon arrival. You were extremely dead. But science marches ever onwards… and it seems even death hath no dominion over you."
Shepard was speechless. She'd died. She was alive. Liara was dead. Garrus… Tel. Shields. What in God's name was Bea doing there and why would she die for her?
Liara. Was dead. She couldn't even figure out how to process that thought. Shepard's brain fumbled for stability. For something to say. Emotions she couldn't describe swept through her and she found herself shaking, biting her lip, as her vision blurred.
She wiped her eyes angrily. "You brought me back. Bring Liara back."
Trellani looked at her sadly. "We cannot. We had your entire body, or at least most of it. The only thing we could salvage of your bondmate was… not enough to revive her. I know your pain, child. I have lost a bondmate, one cruelly murdered. My entire family died, while I was helpless to stop it. The soul is empty, no fire races through the blood, and every memory becomes a knife."
Shepard felt the impact of her words somewhere inside. She met the gaze, the sad knowledge those old eyes held, and felt fresh tears. "I… why in fuck would you bring me back to… when…?"
Kelly Chambers bit her lip again and spoke gently. "Because the Broker is the one responsible for your death, and the destruction of the Normandy. And because, if our information and surmises are correct, he is working for the Reapers."
Something slowly descended on Shepard. It wasn't a thought, or an emotion. It wasn't a state of mind, it was like a switch flicking on. Or off. A single, solitary pulse of something so far beyond hatred as to have no clear name.
She heard her own voice speak, as if from a distance. "The Shadow Broker destroyed my ship, and killed me. And he was involved in Liara's death?"
Trellani gave a single slow nod, and Shepard trembled with rage. Burning, searing rage. She gripped the steel arms of the chair – and then blinked, shocked out of her anger, as they crumpled like cardboard under her grip, the thick metal warped and buckled.
She lifted her hand to look at it, and found it wasn't even bruised. She then looked up at the expression on Kelly Chambers face, and took a deep breath.
"I think you two need to explain a few things to me more clearly."
O-TWCD-O
"Let me get this straight." Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose. "You resurrected me using some kind of techno-magic bullshit that I understood six words of, but you don't know how long it will keep me alive. You've crammed me full of technology even a goddamned AI of the Inusannon can't be sure it understands, and I might fucking melt or blow up or have my fucking eyes fly right out my skull, if my biotics don't set me on fire. On the plus side, my tits are bigger."
She set her jaw. "The Broker might possibly be maybe working with Collectors, who might possibly maybe be the scouts or spies or fucking heralds or some other shit for the Reapers, who haven't made any moves in the past two years I've been dead. But you aren't sure, and all you have is a bunch of goddamned hunches."
"Most of my friends are dead, fucked in the head, or disgraced. The man I look at like my father is in a motherfucking mental hospital, General von Grath is in exile, the Alliance is being run by a zombie and Terra fucking Firma, and I've been resurrected by, of all the fucking people in the galaxy, a kinder gentler Cerberus."
Shepard narrowed her eyes. "On top of everything else, not only did you pack of fuckups get my wife and one of my best friends and HIS wife killed, but you also managed to piss off the Council so bad they trust the fucking Broker's word, when he's the bastard who set me up to get killed in the first place!"
She exhaled, jaw clenching. "And now you tell me some fucker is outright stealing humans from colonies, and no one is doing shit about it but you. Cerberus. The people who thought cutting up aliens was nifty. And you want me to work with you."
Chambers bit her lip and nodded. "A bit more colorful than my summary… but yes."
Shepard folded her arms. "Y'know, maybe I'm just a petty and ungrateful bitch, but what I'm not hearing is the part where I shouldn't go through this fucking base and execute every single goddamned one of you."
Trellani smiled. "There are three reasons for that. First, it would be utterly unproductive. We didn't kill you, Shepard. If anything, despite our unorthodox approach… we have given you an opportunity to avenge your own death, and that of your loved ones."
Shepard snarled. "They wouldn't be fucking DEAD if you hadn't dragged them into it!"
Trellani laughed quietly at her."Are you truly that naive? I have not bonded with you, but in the course of stabilizing your spirit and mind so that your severance from your wife's bond would not kill you, I saw deeply into you. The AIS would have killed Liara as soon as they could, on the off chance she knew anything that you did. The Commissars knew Aethyta had done a link with her daughter at least once and would have gone after her too. The main reason the Illusive Man made the offer is that those orders were already being prepared when we hustled them off Earth."
Shepard blinked. "You're lying. You have to be. I know the SA isn't all lights and goodness, but – "
Trellani smiled coldly. "You know full well the Asari Republic would not be at all displeased if Liara suffered an accident. There were elements on Earth who found the idea of an asari member of the Lords of Sol insulting. They tolerated it when it was her married to you, but her alone? Not something they were prepared to accept." The asari's words became clipped and hard. "Do you think your friend Jiong could have stopped them?"
She leaned back. "I will admit that Mr. Vakarian and the clanless girl might have survived. But we had no other assets to draw on, Shepard. We sent everyone we did have along for the ride and none of them returned unscathed, nor did Tali'Zorah."
Shepard's eyes snapped up. "I want to see her."
Kelly nodded., tapping her omni-tool. "And you will. But… please, listen to the Matriarch."
Trellani smiled again. "The second reason you shouldn't act against us, and instead work with us, is that no one is doing anything about the missing colonists. The Alliance does not care, as each loss frightens those colonies who attempt to remain independent, driving them back under the Alliance banner. The Council will not act because they believe the perpetrator is Aria, or perhaps slavers. There is little to no evidence they will listen to that proves otherwise. Only Cerberus – which, given they employ me, and Ms. Zorah, should tell you their stances and opinions on alien life are not what you think they are – is taking any action. Are you going to simply let this continue while these helpless people are enslaved, or butchered – or worse?"
Shepard grit her teeth. They had a point.
Trellani folded her arms. "Finally… I have been where you are. I have suffered and watched my soul bleed and my emotions darken, the small light I had left in my life eventually fading to nothing but bitter hate and a need for revenge. In many ways your initial statement about me was right. I am indeed a terrorist. Why else would I be here, in the arms of Cerberus?"
She paused. "But you do not have to venture down those dark tides with no goal. We cannot restore the light of your bondmate to you. But you can redeem yourself. Act to stem the abuses and horrors of your own government. Lead the fight against the Reapers, when they come. Help those of your friends who are still alive, who suffer or are hurt. The alternative is to throw away all the effort spent on bringing you back and turn your back on the fate of everyone."
She leaned back. "A failure of monumental proportions."
Shepard flinched. She wanted to sleep, to drink. She wanted to smash her head against a wall and fall into a boneless pile and cry, and she couldn't let herself do that.
She understood all too well what was being asked of her. She trusted the Illusive Man to do what was best for him, and whatever fucked up vision he had in his head of humanity. This Trellani was clearly damaged and had seen some things – that didn't mean she was being straight with her or that what came out of her mouth was the truth.
The Chambers woman seemed the most open, the most empathetic. She didn't shade what she said, but she looked upset to have to relate it all to Shepard. Maybe she was just faking – shrinks couldn't be trusted, after all.
It didn't matter. She had no illusions – if she didn't play along, they'd probably kill her and start over. Anyone who had the money and tech to bring the dead back to life wouldn't be interested in no for an answer.
Seconds ticked by, and Shepard licked her lips. They still felt off. Too soft. Too… perfect. She was always having chapped lips, and now they would never chap again.
"I need more answers. About what you fucking people did to me. On what I'd be expected to do. On… what I am going to be asked to do. Where my friends are." She stiffened. "And I want Tali here. Now. Before I do or say anything else."
Trellani traded a long glance with Chambers, who shrugged and spoke. "She's on her way now. Do you want to speak to her privately, or did you want me to stay?"
Shepard glanced around the room. "You expect me to believe you don't have cameras and microphones in this room?"
Chambers shook her head. "No, we do. But I do expect you to believe Tali is good enough to shut them off if you told her to… and that she certainly would rather follow your instructions than ours in that regard."
Shepard exhaled. "Hah. Then yeah, privacy please."
The two females got up and left, the door shutting behind them. Shepard lit another cigarette. She didn't trust the drink – and she needed a clear head anyway, even if her heart was heavy.
She hated her cybernetic eyes. They didn't hurt when she cried, just kept on working as if nothing was wrong. She tried to clear her head, wiping her treacherous eyes again, smoking and tapping her feet nervously.
The door opened, and a tall quarian woman stepped through. Shepard blinked. "Tali?"
The quarian touched a panel on her omni-tool, and the red-tinted faceplate changed to a transparent version, revealing Tali's alien, beautiful features. She had aged. Her eyes were wider, brighter, and her cheekbones shifted.
Her reik was now a dark black with hard red trim and swirling patterns of dark gray, wrapped in a different fashion around her body. She was taller, more curvy, and the leather-texture and black metallic bodysuit she wore looked somehow more sexualized, or just tighter. Heavy boots with a holster holding some kind of knives on either side dominated her lower body.
Her arm was cybernetics, heavy myomer muscle in black and silver, defiantly stamped with, to Shepard's horror, a Cerberus emblem. Tali finally spoke, her voice hesitant, deeper and more husky than Shepard remembered, but still hers.
"They really did it. Keelah. Sara…"
Shepard managed a weak smile."You grew up."
Tali gave a small start, and then her hands came together, one hand wrapping around her other wrist rather than wringing together as she used to. "I had to. It… it has been an ugly two years. More than two years. And I couldn't be a kid anymore."
Tali sat down carefully, still leaving her faceplate transparent. Shepard frowned. "Could you have done that before? With the faceplate?"
Tali shook her head. "It's a… it's something Jeff wanted." She sighed. "How do you… feel? I mean… oh what a stupid question. Babbling. Are you… okay? I mean I know you aren't but…" Tali trailed off, eyes seeking hers, and the worry was clear on her face.
She sighed. "No. I… Wait. Before we talk, I need you to do something. The Chambers woman said you could shutdown their cameras."
Tali sighed. "Ugh. These people are beyond paranoid. Yes, I can fix that much." She tapped her omni-tool, and the lights in the room flickered. "That should block them, for now. They may be able to see us, but they definitely can't hear us."
She paused. "So. Are you okay or not, Sara? Did they hurt you? I know you must be… confused. I would be."
Shepard shook her head. "No. I mean yes. Shit. I'm not hurt. I actually feel fine. It's just everything is so fucking… fucked. I'm… dead. But not dead. Liara is gone. All I did… everything. Everything is fucked. It feels like… yesterday. I was on top of the world, joking in the Normandy cockpit, sipping good coffee. Then fire. Then this."
She looked up. "I'm not making any sense, but nothing is making any sense to me. My world is ashes right now. And Cerberus…"
Tali nodded. "I can't imagine how you must feel. I'm so sorry, Shepard. I… I wasn't much help when we went to get you. I got in the way, got my arm blown off. If they hadn't had to cover me, maybe…"
Shepard held up a hand. "Don't, Tali. There's only one person responsible for this outrageous bullshit, and it's the fucking Broker. I'm going to pull his motherfucking spine out through his ass, then choke him with it. He did this. Not you. Don't beat yourself up."
Tali nodded. "I… well. You're a little late to stop that. I've learned a lesson from it, a sad and cruel one. But I'm happy you don't hate me."
Shepard sighed. "I don't know what I feel, Tali. I don't hate you. You're still the person I dragged into this bullshit. But you've certainly changed. Last time I saw you, you didn't sport that logo on your shoulder."
Tali's voice dropped a notch, and her hand crossed her chest, tracing the Cerberus hexagon. "Yes, well. My people have a saying. 'One follows where one is welcome.' Last time you saw me, my bosh'tet of a father hadn't tried to kill my husband or throw me in a jail cell for my choices in life."
Shepard's jaw dropped. "W-what?"
Tali folded her arms. "My father – Admiral Rael'Zorah – was displeased when we returned to the Flotilla – Jeff and I. The Alliance… threw us out. Said we were acting in a manner unbecoming to chase your body down and bring you back. General von Grath tried to cover for us. So did Jiong. Didn't help. They gave us less than honorable discharges and told us to get lost."
Shepard snarled, but Tali shrugged. "We had almost no money, and no where to go. So we went to the Flotilla. I had no choices, and neither did Jeff. I knew my father would not take us being together well, but I didn't think he'd…"
She closed her glowing eyes. "He… struck Jeff. Hard enough to… hurt him. Badly. He was going to kill him, and Admiral Han'Gerrel tried to stop him. He broke Han'Gerrel's arm and was going to shoot Jeff to death on the bridge before I shot him first."
Shepard's eyes widened more. "You shot your dad?"
Tali's slender features behind the mask twisted into a smile. "I sure did. Marines hauled me off, hauled Jeff off. I was tried. For treason. Assault. Attempted murder. The Flotilla was in an uproar. The trial…"
She trailed off, and clenched a fist. Shepard watched anger and fury mar the gentle beauty of her friend's face, the eyes burning with hatred, and then Tali sighed, and closed her eyes. "I was stripped of my rank, my Family, and exiled. Jeff was beaten, they stole the eezo from his braces. And they dumped us on the Citadel."
Shepard clenched her own fist, but was careful not to fuck up her chair any more than she already had. "I knew your dad was a first-class dick, but this…"
Tali sighed. "I… I don't know. I've had a lot of time to think about it. He was under a lot of pressure – the first world my people tried to colonize turned out badly, and he was… not acting like himself. And I think in his way he loved me, but his love was not the kind of love a father should have. He couldn't take the idea of losing me, like he lost my mother. His love was… it was twisted, Sara. Unhealthy. He wanted me to be safe even if that meant making me miserable, and what kind of love is that?"
She shrugged, running her hand along her thigh. "And when I told him I loved Jeff, he just lost it completely. He wanted to tell me who to marry, who to bear children with. How to live my life. How to think. I've hung around you too long, I think – my answer to him was 'fuck that shit.' He didn't take that well."
Despite herself, Shepard found herself smiling. "Good for you, Tali. What happened after the fucker threw you out? How did you end up with Cerberus?"
Tali looked at Shepard directly. "The Illusive Man rescued us. Got us off the Citadel. Cleaned up my… injuries. Replaced my cyberware, got me a new suit. Got us a clean room, paid for Jeff to have operations, proper medicine, therapy. Got me what I needed to remake braces. Gave him a chance to fly, put me in charge of…" She trailed off, and then smiled wickedly, displaying sharp teeth. "A little surprise for you when you woke up, eventually. A good surprise."
Shepard leaned back. "So he saved your lives. I guess. Do you trust him?"
Tali immediately shook her head. "The very first thing he tells you when you work for him is that you shouldn't trust him. You should believe in him to do what is best for humanity, then those aliens who are not hostile to humanity's survival. You should believe in him to level with you and tell you the truth. But he told me – and Jeff – that if it came down to it, he'd sacrifice us both in a second."
Shepard nodded. "Okay. But he lives up to his word?"
Tali nodded. "Yes. He's a sneaky bosh'tet , but he also rarely if ever promises anything. And if he does, he always follows through with it – and not just the letter of what he said, but the spirit of it. He's not a good man, I don't think. He probably wants to be. He's really, really good at controlling his body language, but there are times I've seen him and he is sad. Or upset. Or angry, I think, with himself."
Shepard arched an eyebrow. "So he's not just some nut who hates aliens?"
Tali smiled. "The rumor is he's been sleeping with Matriarch Trellani for years and years. He almost never goes anywhere without her."
Shepard was surprised. The leader of a pack of racist nuts banging an asari just didn't compute. "Fine. Does he have other aliens working for him beside you?"
Tali sighed. "A few. There is a quarian I brought in... another exile named Kiala'Dost. Other than us and Trellani, not really. I mean, there's one more quarian who was here before us, but she's… odd."
"Odd?"
"Her name is Nirin'Ptrun and she was part of the Severing Rebellion, same as Kiala, but… she was just a child when she was exiled. And she was sold to the batarians at one point and later rescued by Cerberus. She's been with them ever since, long before we joined up. She's a sweet girl, but she's not like most quarians I've met. I suppose if I had to label her, I'd say she's culturally human."
"Interesting, but it makes sense if she wasn't with the Fleet all that time."
"True. As for the Illusive Man, he's not…" She paused. "He sat Jeff and I down one day and explained why Cerberus was so anti-alien. About some of the things the Salarian Union and the Asari Republic were doing, and how much they were messing with the Turian Hierarchy. And he showed me things… Council discussions he'd gotten a hold of, from centuries back, where the asari wrote my people off on purpose, hoping we would all get killed! They were going to try and take over our worlds and steal our technology, after the geth destroyed us."
Shepard sighed. "Shocking."
Tali shrugged. "Jeff doesn't trust him… but that's okay. He thinks Jeff is funny. And as long as he keeps having him test new designs, Jeff is… pretty happy. We're both happy. I won't say that just because he treats us well you should trust him. I know I'm… um, biased?" She smiled sadly. "And I won't say that everyone in Cerberus is wild about aliens either. But not a single one of them, even the nasty ones like Minsta, are really bad people. I think they're frustrated and scared."
Shepard thought about that, then shook her head. "That doesn't excuse the shit they did."
Tali nodded. "I fully agree. But this Cerberus doesn't do that anymore. At least, not that I've seen. It's all spying and finances and things like that. They are keeping a pretty low profile." She shrugged. "And after some of what the Illusive Man told us and showed us…"
She fingered the insignia again and lifted her chin. "They didn't make me wear this. I asked for it. Like I said… I'm happy here."
Shepard nodded. At least two of her friends were okay, then. "That's… that's good, Tali." She exhaled. "Now. Should I listen to him?"
Tali didn't say anything for almost ten seconds before slowly nodding. "I think, Sara, if he went to all the trouble of bringing you back from the dead – and the other things he's doing, in hopes you'll work with him – you can at least listen. He may be treating Jeff and I nice just to have me feel like you can trust him… but… I don't know."
The quarian woman folded her arms. "It would be like him to be nice to us just so you think he's worth trusting, if you get what I'm saying. But it would also be like the Illusive Man to actually be wanting to help. I don't know all the details of what went on the past, but… I did some digging. The Systems Alliance used to be in charge of Cerberus… and gave him his orders. I think if he's really evil, I'd have seen it by now."
Tali looked at her. "Whatever you decide, Jeff and I will have your back either way. When he told us what he was planning, we demanded that. You needed people to be here when you… woke up, that you could trust. I'm in this for you – Jeff and I both are."
Shepard smiled. "I get it, Tali. And… thank you." She leaned back, thinking.
She knew her mind wasn't working right, at the moment. Her emotions were a mess, she was angry, upset, weepy, and, to her own surprise, more than a little scared. Death, after all, was supposed to be it.
Goddamn it, Death, even when you take me to third base you fuck up and prematurely ejaculate. I'm done with your ass.
Shepard suspected the Illusive Man didn't employ Tali and Joker out of the sheer, baby-snuggling goodness of his heart. He wanted them to feel grateful, and use that gratitude as a way to convince her to listen to whatever shit he had planned. On the other hand, she couldn't imagine Jeff and Tali just going along with this nut if he really was some kind of terrorist tool.
But why bring her back at all? God only knew how much it cost to bring her back. And yet he'd chosen to do so. So he had some specific, clear goal in mind for her, and she only had to figure out if she wanted to listen to it, or see if she could punch through this armaglass wall as easily as she crushed the chair handle.
Given that it was the fucking Illusive Man, she guessed if she tried to escape it would fail, but damn it would feel good. She flexed her hand, wondering what they had done to her, and then looked up at Tali.
"We'll… talk later. Go tell Chambers I have a couple of questions for her."
Tali nodded, blanking her faceplate. "I will. It… it's good to see you up, Sara. I know this sounds selfish… but I… I missed you."
Shepard swallowed and smiled. "Well… I'm here now. We'll see how it all ends up."
O-TWCD-O
It took about ten minutes for Kelly Chambers to return. Shepard paced the small room, and finally broke down and had a small drink.
It was scotch – Vindrasian, if she remembered correctly. From Terra Nova. Anderson's favorite. She scowled as she recalled what Chambers and Trellani had told her in their explanations.
The idea that she had been dead for two years was hard to get around, to deal with. She didn't feel like she'd died. She remembered the pain, the burning, the going black. But there was no angelic choir or burning hell pit. No memories of any kind.
It was basically as if she'd dozed off and woken back up. Except she wasn't sure what the hell they'd done to her. She wasn't educated enough to follow some all of Chamber's complex explanations, but she got the gist.
They'd tricked her body into thinking it wasn't dead, stuffed her full of crap that made her go, then slapped a picture-perfect set of skin cloned up from her real skin over it. Except it wasn't quite skin. Something else.
Her body was some freakish thing, and she imagined she could hear gears grinding away inside her. She knew it was a silly thing, but she felt that way emotionally. The scary part was that physically she felt fine. Normal, even. If they'd lied and said she magically survived the crash and they did some plastic surgery on her, she wouldn't have known the difference.
Well, except for crushing a solid steel armrest like a tin can. That had possibilities, both scary and exhilarating, but she was ambivalent about being turned into some kind of zombie robot thing.
She couldn't really verify or disprove what they'd done to her until she got away from this pack of lunatics and to a medical facility, but that raised it's own problems. She was dead. She'd been dead. If she just showed up in Alliance space, she wouldn't be surprised if they shot her dead on the spot.
She was trying very hard not to think about Liara, and keep her anger, frustration and fear going. If she sat down and really thought about all the ramifications of this, she felt like she would just go mad. She had to be tactical. Channel Ahern. Be fucking unpredictable.
Anderson was basically locked up in a loony bin. The details, they didn't know, and maybe it didn't matter. Ash was alive, but on some kind of classified mission from the Alliance. Humanity's Spectre was now Delacor, of all the fucking people. He worked solo, his last Spectre partner had gotten killed by a meteor strike.
She resisted an urge to giggle madly at that. She'd known that fucker was walking bad luck, and there was the proof.
They weren't sure where Adams was, but Pressly was in a hospital on Dirth, tended to by his family, suffering from some minor brain damage and physically crippled. The Alliance had paid for cybernetic reconstruction but Pressly had declined, deciding he'd had enough of service. She found that strange, and wondered what the real story was.
Her own status was actually quite interesting. Her Family – Shepard-T'Soni – still was technical extant, as once a Family was created it was not usually removed from the Honor Roster. There was talk in some corners of 'adopting' someone into the name of Shepard (and of course, dropping the T'Soni part). The small list of weapon designs she'd given to Mayor Inman had paid off handsomely with the creation of a small weapons firm called Shepard Memorial Industries, owned – to her mix of amusement and disgust – by her old weapons officer, Colms.
Chambers didn't know exactly where most of the rest of her people were, except that none of them had died recently. She told Shepard that Von Grath had quietly retired away to some outer colony world with Chakwas of all people, dropping out of the public eye while his father handed the Family over to a younger brother. President Windsor had been forced out of office from medical complications, grief and scandal. Turned out Eliza wasn't his niece, but his daughter from an affair, carefully smuggled into the family by his brother and raised as his own.
Shepard wasn't surprised that bitch al-Jiliani had broken that story. Windsor had a breakdown after Eliza died from more complications of her heavy wounds, and he never recovered physically or mentally. The Coleman Administration had collapsed when Saracino's girl-rape fetish came up – the bastard shot himself, but the Commissars burned and beheaded the corpse anyway.
The new administration had mostly been a compromise, but as time went on they were more and more isolationist. The new Terra Firma was a lot slicker, claiming they wanted 'peaceful co-existence' but 'cultural respect', while quietly sponsoring all kinds of underground terrorist activity.
The geth war had raged on for more than a year after her death, culminating in a massive battle barely four months back involving over five thousand ships. The geth base at a place called Haestrom had been shattered, and the geth splintered. But the Council losses were heavy and instead of going into finish them off, the Council had backed away, licking their wounds.
Goddamned cowards. The turians and humans had led every battle, the asari claiming they were 'keeping peace' in the outer Rim and along the borders of the Traverse.
All in all, the galaxy was about the same mess she'd left it in when she died. She was hardly surprised by that shit.
Chambers finally came back in, carrying a larger data-padd, and sat down. "I'm sorry for the delay… had to talk to a few people."
Shepard sat back down in her own chair, stubbing out her cigarette. "Whatever."
The young-looking psychologist smiled. "Ms. Zorah said you had a couple of questions for me. I hope I can be of service in answering them."
Shepard folded her arms, and crossed her legs. "Yeah. First, when are you letting me out of here?"
Chambers' expression became more serious. "That depends on you. As we told you, your physical strength and speed were augmented in your rebirth. The room is specially designed to contain you in case you get… well, violent. Not that I think that you will – but we like to take precautions, especially with such a traumatic set of events as you've awoken to."
Chambers bit her lip and continued. "To more fully answer your question, you'll be released as soon as you have a conversation with my boss. The Illusive Man."
Shepard snorted. "And why in fuck would I want to talk to him? 'Hey, thanks asshole, for bringing me back to life only to find everything I worked for is shit and the only person I loved is dead.' Doesn't sound like his speed."
Chambers sighed. "He has expended a great deal of effort to bring you back, and all he wants is for you to listen to him and hear him out for a small amount of time. Once you've done that and made your choices, you're free to go."
Shepard narrowed her eyes. "Made my choices?"
Kelly nodded. "Shepard, I've been instructed – and I have always advised – that we are not to lie to you, ever. He's going to ask you to work with us, to solve the colonist disappearances, to help fight the Reaper threat. The only two outcomes of that is you work with us, or you don't."
Chambers gave her a worried look. "If you choose not to work with us, then everyone here will evacuate onto several shuttles. You'll be routed to a hangar bay with a different shuttle, and you'll leave after our shuttles FTL away. The shuttle you will be provided has enough fuel – and speed – to get you to either Alliance space or to the Citadel. What you do after that point, if you don't want to work with us, is really up to you."
Shepard shook her head. "You expect me to believe if I say no he's just going to let me go?"
Chambers shrugged. "What you believe or don't believe is nothing in my control, Ms. Shepard. I can't say that your suspicion is unreasonable, but… if we just wanted to dominate you, we could have put some kind of limbic system override, or control chip, or something in your head. We could have messed with your memory or something. We didn't. The Illusive Man wants you as an ally, and that's not going to work if you look us as hostiles."
Shepard frowned. That still sounded crazy, to spend God knew how much on someone who could flip you off and throw up deuces. "And if I chose to work with you… people?"
Chambers gave her a smile. "Then the discussion would be on what demands you had to agree to such a thing."
Shepard arched an eyebrow. "Demands?"
Chambers laughed. "I told him that you were unlikely to trust Cerberus – nor did the fact we brought you back to life win us any points in your head. I know he has plans for you, ideas – but he's also prepared to meet whatever requirements you have to feel like you can actually work with us." Her voice quieted a little. "Not like the Alliance or Citadel would welcome you back with open arms."
Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, I thought about that."
Chambers made a motion with her hands."But we're not going to force you to work for us, that isn't our style. We can't just bark orders at you and expect you to fall in line, or throw you into space with a ship and a bug net and tell you to stop the Collectors."
Shepard found herself trying not to smile at the phrasing Chambers used. "Fine. And once I've talked to him, you let me out of this fancy cage, what's to stop me from killing you all?"
Chambers eyes met hers. Shepard was impressed to see despite more than a flicker of fear, there was also pity and determination there. "Nothing. No one involved in your resurrection is innocent, Shepard. We've done things that I'm sure you might see as criminal. We can't stop you from leaving without alienating you, and if you choose to try and deceive us and kill the people here, we'll fight – but probably lose. Even with no biotics and no weapons, what we've done to you is enough you could kill most of us bare handed."
Chambers exhaled. "But the numbers we've run, Ms. Shepard, tell us that you're the best shot we have at stopping the Collectors, at stopping the Reapers, at stopping the Broker. We can't get the Alliance to listen. We can't get the Council to listen. The Broker is convincing everyone the Reaper threat is far in the future. If you don't help, we'll be dead when the Reapers hit us anyway."
Chambers leaned back. "And personally? God, what kind of repressed and ungrateful bitch are you to kill people who brought you back from the dead without even hearing them out? Toss all the death threats you want, Ms. Shepard. Killing US won't bring your wife back, or Mr. Vakarian, or Ms. Nasan."
Shepard gritted her teeth. "You've got nerve."
Chambers shrugged. "Yeah, well. You're don't like listening to bullshit, so why give it to you?"
O-TWCD-O
The Illusive Man, Trellani and Miranda watched from another room as Chambers fenced words with Shepard.
"She really is good at this, Jack." Trellani's voice was rich with amusement, and he nodded.
"It helps when you have a complete psychological profile on who you're dealing with, and the manifests from the gray-box Even so, Shepard isn't a simple woman to understand, and Chambers has to punch her buttons and then deflect her anger."
He inhaled on his cigarette, as the two women began shouting at each other, and then smiled widely as Shepard punched the armaglass barrier. A faint spiderweb of cracks was the only effect.
Miranda looked alarmed. "I don't think this is the method we should be using… antagonizing Shepard -"
Harper shook his head. "She's not antagonizing Shepard, Miranda. She's letting her blow off anger, while carefully steering the conversation. Shepard has always been someone who can become very angry very fast, and has worked hard to control that. Chambers is merely draining it away."
He put out his cigarette. "I'd better get ready. You'll see, Miranda. This is going better than I expected." He paused. "Still, make sure the secondary kinetic barrier is in place. I would hate to be killed by my own handiwork."
O-TWCD-O
"That doesn't fucking justify the shit your people did in the past!"
Chambers rolled her eyes. "You know what? Fuck you. You want to claim you're so righteous, fine with me. But don't sit here and defend that pack of assholes running the Alliance. Cerberus isn't the ones creating monster humans, deliberately getting our own people killed, or selling Marines up the river. The things we did bad in the past are in the past."
Shepard glared. "So that means I should just cooperate with your pack of lunatics? Sing campfire songs, pretend all is fucking well? You could have been involved with the shit we found in your base for all I know, and now you want me to trust you assholes?"
Chambers folded her arms. "You don't know shit about me, Shepard. You don't know shit about anything. You did what you were told and had your eyes closed most of your life. And even when you had them opened for you – by information WE gave Kyle – you kept letting the Alliance lead you around by the nose."
She stood. "And now that we brought you back, you blame us for the fact that your life is a wreck. It's not our fault. We're doing what we can to fix it."
Shepard trembled, then looked away. Chamber's voice finally softened. "I understand your anger and frustration. Being told the only way to make things better is to trust a group with the past Cerberus has is probably not easy. I won't lie. I won't tell you that we are suddenly in love with aliens. But we're not in this just to protect humanity at this point. If the Reapers show up, everyone dies."
Shepard glared at her. "I think I know that a little better than you do. I have a goddamned movie in my head of it happening to the Protheans."
Chambers sighed and nodded. "I know. That's why you have to work with us – even if you don't like the idea. It won't turn you into a criminal. If we do something you find objectionable, then I know we'll end up paying for it."
The door on Chamber's half of the room chimed.
Shepard glanced up, and Chambers frowned. "One moment, please."
She went through the door, and Shepard turned to face the door, folding her arms, placing her weight on one leg and frowning.
A moment later, a familiar face walked through the door, a glass of brandy in one hand, lit cigarette in the other. He sat down on one of the chairs, setting his drink down on the small table, and then looked at her, the blue circles in his eyes glowing faintly.
"Hello, Shepard."
She forced down her anger, glaring. "So, you finally showed up. Your goddamned shrink pissed me the hell off."
Jack Harper nodded. "She does that, from time to time. She's very passionate about her work, and I think you upset her. She admires you greatly, but sometimes she is not very willing to examine her own biases."
He puffed on his cigarette. "But that's not important. It's time you and I had a face to face talk."
She gestured to the armaglass. "Yeah, with me sealed in this cell."
Harper took a deep breath, then touched his omni-tool. The kinetic barrier in the archway separating the two halves of the room shut off. "Bring the ashtray with you, please."
For two long seconds, Shepard contemplated crossing into the room and smashing her fist into the face of Jack Harper. She could feel her body responding. She knew she could probably move fast enough to do it before any kind of defenses could stop her.
He was testing her. The thought made her angrier for a moment, and then she forced it down. She picked up the ashtray and her own cigarettes, and walked through the archway.
She walked up to him, staring down as he sat in the chair, then with a grimace sat down herself, placing the ashtray on the table.
He smiled, and licked his lips. "Thank you. For not crushing my face… and the ashtray."
She stared at him. "You are the most insane sonofabitch I've ever seen."
His smile became almost a smirk. "I have a bad habit of gambling. I rarely do so with my own life, but there are times exceptions must be made, in order to make a point. This is one such time."
He dumped his ashes. "We don't have a control chip or any other method of stopping you. Right now, you can decide we need to go our separate ways. That isn't a trick. I need you either committed to working with me, or this entire endeavor has been pointless."
She narrowed her eyes. "Then why not just fuck with my head? Edit my memories?"
Harper sighed. "We will not be able to keep your existence a secret forever. At some point, you will be interacting with the Alliance, with the Council. They will interrogate you, examine you. You have to be able to have the free will to pass that, and the only way you can do so is by us not tampering with who you are."
He sipped his drink. "I don't need an obedient minion. I have enough of those. Nor do I need someone who is forced into servitude, who hates me and has no choices. That always ends up backfiring. What I need is an advocate. An ally, who will eventually bring more to the table than I put into it."
Shepard folded her arms. "And just how much did you put into it? Bringing me back?"
He met her gaze. "The cost of bringing you back alone came to six billion, four hundred million, seven thousand ninety two credits. It also cost us three suicides and two people going quietly insane, and another billion and a half in related costs."
The numbers washed over her. "That's… you could have created an entire fleet and army for what it cost to bring me back!"
He nodded. "Perhaps. Of course, building such and keeping it hidden would be very difficult. We have no association with the Systems Alliance, and thus can't hide in the open. And the truth of the matter is that a pure military force of that nature would be of no use to me. I have a target and no way to hit them, I have enemies and no locations to attack. What I need is not force, but information."
She frowned. "I'm not a spy, either."
He sat his drink on the table and adjusted his position in his chair. "A fact I'm well aware of. But you are tenacious and you can put together facts when you hunt down a target. You brought down Saren and Benezia, with remarkably little help from much of anyone, after all."
He took a drag on his cigarette. "Most importantly, Shepard, you are a symbol. You can't be corrupted or bribed. You won't tolerate criminality or injustice. An army of goons is merely the extended hand of their master. You working with me implies that Cerberus' goals are benign."
Shepard snorted. "You haven't convinced me of doing that, not even close. I'm glad you saved Joker and Tali, and I'll admit the things the Alliance and Council are doing sound pretty fucking stupid. But you must have your own badasses who could have checked into this Collector bullshit Trellani is telling me about."
Harper's smile was smaller. "I do, after a fashion. But they lack some of your skills. I have a skilled general. I have men who can assassinate, or assault. I have intelligence agents, psychological warfare specialists, and money to throw at problems. What I don't have is a leader who can bring these pieces together."
He pointed at her. "You are unique, Shepard. Not only for what you accomplished and represent, but what you have experienced. You faced and spoke with a Reaper, and defeated its plans. The fact the Broker had you killed tells me they fear you."
He leaned back. "And I will admit there are things you offer that I don't have. Once you bring down the Broker and the Collectors, and the Alliance and Council have no choice but to wake up and face reality, then your Spectre status and your nobility will be useful once more. Your heroism in stopping Saren, in stopping Balak, in defending humanity, has not been forgotten."
She pulled a grimace. "That's worth billions of credits?"
The Illusive Man shrugged. "I have more available. But I'll admit, the primary value you have is that you are unexpected. No one can imagine you have returned from the dead. You can operate with the knowledge and skills you have and the Broker can't prepare for it. His plans – and those of who he is working for – are predicated on you being dead. The value of shock and surprise will give us an advantage as well."
She narrowed her eyes. "You'll pardon me if that still seems a stretch. Two years and billions of credits, and yet you don't even know if I'll say yes or no? That's a hell of a gamble."
He chuckled. "I don't think you'll turn me down once you actually hear my offer, Shepard."
