Dr. Liara T'Soni

Finally, after all this time, I had found it. I had found him. Tracked him from the clutches of merc bands, to Omega and the Blue Suns, and even to the Shadow Broker. What the Broker would possibly want with his body, I've no idea, beyond selling it to the highest bidder. And who would that bidder even be? Some pervert or sycophant? Someone who just wanted a trophy they didn't deserve? I suppose it doesn't matter now. But this venture had cost me. Both in credits, which I did not care about, and in a friend. He gave himself up to the Broker to allow my escape. I still don't understand why.

And now… I had a choice.

"Dr. T'Soni?" The brown-haired woman asked, waiting to get an answer. She was a difficult woman to read. A skilled operative, not giving away many signs. Hm, strange. Not so long ago I'd have been completely oblivious to such cues. But now I know to look for them, and she isn't exhibiting any of them. This woman, and some of the operatives with her, had helped me on Omega. And upon learning who they were, I nearly shot them on the spot.

Cerberus. The organization we ran into several times committing atrocious acts. But there were revelations I could not ignore.

Unlike most of the Galaxy, they believed in the Reaper threat, and were committed to stopping it. I had spoken with their leader, an enigmatic man, calling himself, The Illusive Man had… perhaps confirmed is the wrong word. They could be lying after all. But not only were they committed against the Reapers, but they claimed they had the means to bring the body of the man we had just retrieved back to life. To somehow, restore the almost sickening, unrecognizable mass of charred flesh and muscle and bone, still holding a human form, back to that of a healthy, strong, human man.

Commander John Shepard.

He deserved a proper burial. True, he had a service already, but that was before anyone knew his body was even retrievable, let alone relatively intact. But which did he deserve more? A proper burial, and respect to his body, or even the slightest of chances to live once more? I had done what I could to take my measure of the brown-haired woman, Miranda Lawson, and believe that at least she seems earnest. And if they are lying, well, at least the man himself is gone, his soul returned to the universe… if I can even decide whether I believe Siari anymore. Either way, I suppose, his body is an empty shell.

"Damn it," I murmured. Miranda raised her brow. "On one condition. You keep me up to date on the progress. A feed to a camera in the facility watching the body." She put a finger to her ear, an earpiece.

"Sir?" she paused. Listening. She removed her finger and returned her gaze to me. "The Illusive Man is willing to grant this, but we shall provide the equipment, and ensure it is untraceable. I'm sure you understand, given nature of our organization, and the nature of the Lazarus project. Further, you cannot breathe a word of this to anyone. Not even to any survivors of the Normandy. Do so, and your connection to the camera, and any updates will be cut off. Frankly you'd be better off not doing so anyway, as it would prevent any disappointment on the off chance we fail." This gave me pause. If anyone deserved to have any idea about this, it was Tali. We may not have spoken since she departed for the fleet, but how could I forget what his loss did to her? I hope one day she can forgive me. As for the rest of them? I've done what I could to keep track of them. Garrus vanished, Kaidan is back with the Alliance, and Joker has been spending his days in bars. He blames himself.

"And you have no intentions of changing anything about him or controlling him?"

"There will be physical enhancements, both in part to restore damaged organs and replace what may be unsalvageable. This will include some level of gene therapy, but mostly cybernetics. A preliminary analysis shows his heart, brain, digestive tract, lungs and most bones as being intact enough to not be replaced. That being said, some organs in the digestive tract and the lungs may require some amount of cybernetics to ensure they function, and most if not all bones will be strengthened by cybernetics as well. Increase bone density, for example. His mind will be entirely unchanged. When it comes to the man himself, we want him back exactly as he was. As for control, the Illusive Man firmly believes that any attempts to do so would quickly lead to suicide," Miranda explained.

"You'd be right," I remarked, stone faced. I then sighed. "We have a deal."

Garrus Vakarian

Omega. A lawless cesspool. Great place for someone like me to start a life of Vigilantism. I'm fed up with the Citadel. The Council, at least, aside from Anderson, just seemed to forget that the Reapers even existed, and the red tape only got thicker, making it harder to do my job. I still remembered Shepard's lessons. This wasn't red tape preventing me from putting innocents at risk. This was red tape keeping me from going after criminals or letting crooks walk. And of course, it wasn't helping that mom was only getting worse. Between that, the red tape, and starting to think everything Shepard and the team did was all for nothing? Well, I needed to get away. Before I did something really stupid. So I did something not as stupid. I think. I went to Omega, found some… like-minded individuals, and recruited them to my cause. Take down the gangs, protect the innocent. Make a difference. And I think we're getting somewhere. Slowly, but surely. Aria T'Loak still holds the station in an iron grip, but we've been smart. We leave her operations alone, for now, and she ignores us. She'll regret that someday. Once the Blue Suns, Blood Pack, and Eclipse are weakened enough, or just forced off entirely, and I have enough people, Archangel will bring the fight to the Pirate Queen. Someday…

Heh, Archangel. An old human couple had said I was like one after I stopped some Vorcha scum from mugging them. Right as I arrived. Something from one of Earth's religions, a protector, a guardian. I'll live up to that name. I'll live up to Shepard. I glanced back at the rifle he had given me so long ago. I had it mounted on a wall in my quarters. I'd be using it, but damn, the last few months had a bit of a leap, tech wise. Guns now had a thermal clip system instead of the old heat sink. True, we're essentially back to using limited ammunition and clips and magazines, but the tradeoff is that we're able to make our weapons hit much harder. To counter this, militaries and police forces had to make modifications to our shields, else we might as well not have them at all anymore. So, armor has changed. Shield modulators built almost throughout, without sacrificing the strength of the armor itself. It's like the entire suit is a shield generator, every inch overlapping significantly to ensure that if armor does get damaged, that when shields recharge, it will still provide full coverage. That being said, the entire suit's shields still draw from the same power supply. Collapsing one section, will still collapse all shields. Long story short, if I want to continue to compete against the merc gangs, I can't use that sniper anymore. No matter how much I'd like to always have it with me. A reminder. A reminder of the example I need to live up to. I've failed everyone else in my life.

I can't fail him. I won't.

"Archangel?" my comms lit up.

"Sidonis? Where've you been? You dropped off the grid for a while. We've been looking for you," I answered.

"Yeah… I… had something I had to take care of. Something from before," he answered, a bit awkwardly. I chalked it up as something uncomfortable. Can't blame him for that. Everyone on the team has something like that. "But I'm back now, and I got a lead on something. Meet up?"

"Sure. Send me the coordinates."

Tali' Zorah

The alarm on my Omni-tool woke me up. Same time today as every day for the past few months. Wordlessly, I stood from my small, single mattress and to the almost adjacent cupboard to grab a bottle of sterilized water, drinking it quickly, as no Quarian can afford sluggishness. Once the bottle was empty, I set it down to be cleaned, and reused, and grabbed a tube of nutrient paste. Eating it quickly. I checked my Omni-tool to see what task I'd be performing on the Neema today. Will I be fixing yet another piece of broken machinery or piping? Will I simply be moving supplies on the fleet? I don't get messages from old friends anymore. I don't reach out to them like I used to. I don't engage with them like I used to. Since I returned, I haven't been very talkative. I just get myself absorbed in my work and nothing else. What else is there on the Migrant Fleet? That little voice spoke up again.

That little voice reminded me that once there was more. Kinship with those around me, friendships, there could still be joy to be found here. That voice was the old Tali. The new Tali, me, simply retorted by remembering the events of the Normandy. There was joy there too. Kinship. And then Shepard died, and we all split up, going our separate ways. Not even talking to one another anymore. That shows how much it was all worth, doesn't it?

Shepard…

Damn it, girl, don't start this again. Sulking won't benefit the fleet. The information I had given them had benefited the Fleet. Father and Xen were studying it almost endlessly. And Gerrel had taken my warnings of the Reapers to heart. There wasn't much we could do to prepare for them, but what we could, he wanted done.

You didn't give the data to the Fleet. Shepard gave the data to you freely. Because he was your friend. You didn't do this. Shepard did.

I sighed. I shook my head, shaking out those thoughts again. I looked at my Omni-tool again. First, was simply a general message that a new ship had been found to take the Idenna's original place. Great, more wonderful images and thoughts. One of our ships that had taken in three humans. A man, a woman, and a little girl. They were running from Cerberus, and temporary refuge had been granted. Cerberus infiltrated the fleet with an exile who sold some of our people to the Collectors, and began a massacre. Killing civilians and marines alike. They were stopped, before retrieving the girl they were after. The human woman returned to Alliance space, while the man and girl stayed. It was decided that they could be kept safe, and our people kept safe, if the Idenna became one of the few ships that depart the fleet to search uncharted regions of the Galaxy for a new home. The next message.

It seems I will neither be repairing something, or removing supplies today. At least, not yet. I was being summoned to a mission briefing. While primarily I was still an engineer, I had enlisted in the Migrant Fleet Marines as a combat engineer. And thanks to my service and experience aboard the Normandy, I was given a leadership role. On small operations, I lead a full team, on larger operations, I will lead a science team that accompanies the marines.

I've already had good men and women die under my command on seemingly suicidal missions that provide only minor benefit to our people. Perhaps this time it will be something worthwhile. Or maybe this time it'll be the one to kill me. I'm not sure I care between the two anymore.