Message chain between Samuel Shepard and Michael Arias through secured frequency 1.
How is she?
She's doing well Samuel, a bit bitter, but that's to be expected after what we put her through.
I just wish that I could have been there for her.
We both know that you would have died if you did. I took the risk of changing the future by keeping you alive because I know you can do great things. Samuel, I think it has started again. *Image attachment, click to open*
I don't see any change in the level of growth of the dark energy crystals, but then again I don't have your body. How long has this been going?
About a week now.
What? Why didn't you tell me?
If I did tell you, you would have forced me to abandon this phase of the plan. How long do you think I have before my body is enveloped in it?
If it follows the same pattern as the last time the growth started, five months, without you using biotics. With? Anything sooner than that. Depends on how much you use your biotics.
I see. Samuel, I'm authorizing Project Grey. Approach Grant when the time is right.
Ah, the co-pilot to the Normandy. I heard that he is one of your group.
Yeah, he is. Also, I've found a fifth one. His name is Kyon Salgrins, according to the dossier that Jennifer got me, his only record is that he is an escaped slave. My company started a program for former slaves, make sure he gets to the top of the list. He came here for a reason, and that is still to be determined. Until then, I want him to think that we are on his side, in case we are.
I understand. Hopefully we are the only ones that know about your type of people.
I feel the same way, either way we need to be careful about how we act.
Michael walked onto the bridge of the Normandy, and saw a blond haired service man joking around with Joker in the cockpit. Michael smiled, there was no doubt in his mind that it was Grant, no one could be that white. Before he walked up to the cockpit, he put on a neutral expression, "Grant Cleggus Adrnonicus?" he asked, using his full formal name.
Grant looked back and his jaw nearly dropped when he saw Michael standing in the entrance to the cockpit, and Michael gave him a imperceptible nod telling him it was indeed the man he knew from before their lives went to hell.
"I need to speak with you in private about a matter that began seventeen years ago," without another word, Michael turned around and started walking towards the Normandy's briefing room, and Grant wasn't far behind him.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Michael turned around and felt Grant hug him, in a manly sort of way, "How many times do I need to tell you, I don't swing that way!" Michael shouted playfully, glad that the room was sound proof. He smiled as he grabbed Grant's shoulders and looked into his eyes. He was still the same man that had left for the Airforce when he was only seventeen.
"Neither do I, but you can bet that I am damn happy to see that you are still alive," Grant smiled from ear to ear as he patted Michael on the shoulders then stepped back, "I'm sorry it took this long to get back into contact with you, hell its been seventeen years and you still look practically the same, a little taller, but that's to be expected."
"A little, I'm a good three inches taller, though that isn't completely natural growth," Michael sat down in one of the chairs, "I've had physical and some slight genetic augmentations that have made me a near super-soldier. Grant, remember that game that Sean and I used to play, Mass Effect."
"Yeah, I never really paid much attention to it, wasn't my type of entertainment. Why?" Grant sat down in a chair a couple seats over from Michael and crossed his arms.
"We didn't just travel through time, we traveled through dimensions. This is the universe of Mass Effect, of that video game," Michael's voice didn't falter or show any signs of joking, which was one thing that he wasn't good at hiding. Grant knew what that meant, Michael was telling the truth, and that truth was now their reality.
Grant sighed then laughed lightly, "Well, doesn't matter if this is a video game or not, we still are alive in this universe, and nothing is going to stop us from dying if we get shot."
"Well, you took that a lot better than I thought you would," Michael said as he was dumbstruck. He rubbed his head at a loss for words because he didn't think Grant would take it so lightly.
"Why not, I'm the guy that always said that we are a story being written by some asshole on a laptop, that has nothing better to do, and is trying to avoid doing his homework."
"Just because that's what you did when we were in school, doesn't mean everyone does it," Michael chuckled as he shook his head, "As you've probably guessed, ET and Sean are here as well. From what my contacts tell me, ET is working as an ambassador between Quarians and Alliance. All I know is that he has been being moved randomly through the galaxy. I think that someone is after him, so I sent Sean to retrieve him and put him under Aria's care."
"Aria? Queen of Omega, Aria?" Grant asked in surprise, to which Michael nodded to him, "What the hell have you been doing in the last seventeen years? Wait, you said a video game..." Grant's face turned to stone, "The games you play aren't sunshine and puppies, that mean something is going down, and that isn't just Saren is it?"
"No, the Reapers are real, and they are going to come one way or another," Michael ran his fingers through his hair, "Either Nazara, the Reaper that Saren is with brings them through the Citadel, or-"
"Through the Citadel?!" Grant shouted as he jumped up, "We have to... Oh..." he sat back down and sighed, "if that was going to work, you would have done it already, wouldn't you?"
"Correct, I want events to play out as close to the game as possible," Michael told Grant with a nod, "if I told the Citadel what was going to happen, I jeopardize that. Something I learned in my time here, is that sacrifices are necessary in order to win a war. Our job is to make sure those sacrifices are kept to a minimum. There is one thing that keeps bothering me though. Has ever since I played the first game. Why doesn't Nazara just take control of the Citadel right now? I tried to reason that it was the Prothean sabotage, but that was meant only for the Keepers."
Michael took a deep breath and started pacing back and forth, when Grant looked at the ceiling, "Power," he said simply, "it takes a lot of power to actually start a ship. That's why most ships are always on, and never actually shut off."
Michael looked at Grant and dropped his jaw, "Damn, that was a simple answer. So, this wild goose chase is just so that Nazara can buy time for the rest of the Reapers a chance to wake up. That means that the reapers are calculating every move we make. With the heretic Geth on their side, that means that they can have a server devoted purely to simulations of what could happen. And with a thought process of the speed of light plus multiple platforms to think on, they could predict this entire battle."
"Then how do we beat them?" Grant asked as he closed his eyes, "if they can predict our every move?"
"Because they can't cover every variable," Michael answered as he smiled, "Currently I know of two people that don't have enough information on file to account for their variables."
"And who is that?"
"Sean and Kyon Salgrins."
"That red-head that is always butting heads with Shepard?"
"Yes, he isn't supposed to be here, because he is from our dimension," Michael responded with a smile, "that means that he wasn't just sent here willy-nilly. He has a purpose, and we have to use figure out what that is. Grant, I have a feeling that I won't be on the Normandy at all times, so I'm going to ask you to keep an eye on him for me, be his friend."
"You really have changed, you never liked manipulating people before," Grant commented as he sighed, "but I'll do it, the fate of the galaxy if far better than the morals of a few people."
"Good to see you agree with me," Michael said as he nodded, "now, if my calculations are correct, we are going to reach Noveria in an hour or two, you should get back to the helm."
"Sure thing," Grant said as he stood up, and reached out his hand, "It was good seeing you again, a sight for sore eyes."
Michael shook his hand and smile, "Likewise, let's just hope that we make it through this so all that money that my company makes can be put to good use."
"Your father's company still exists?" Grant laughed lightly, "you must be a billionaire by now."
"Trillionaire actually," Michael responded, "but that's only because the me in this dimension actually survived until now."
"Wait, you survived to be nearly two centuries? How?"
"Arias Medical and Military Organization. I had access to the most advanced medical care in the galaxy, kept me alive till I was 170. I asked the other me to get a grey-box implant so that he could transfer all his memories to me. He agreed to it."
"So, you know the history of the past century?"
"Yes," Michael replied, "it took a while, even just looking at the major historical events took a few months of searching through. But it doesn't matter, we have more important things to worry about than the history of this dimension. Now, go do your job."
"Yes sir," Grant said as he did a mock salute and walked out of the briefing room.
Message Chain between Aria and Michael 29/5/2169
Michael: I don't believe that Cerberus will make another push for Omega for a while, after "Aria's" return, they'll think twice about it.
Aria: You had better be right, I'm not going to die because you made me feel comfortable. Now I know what Aria felt like when she was ruling Omega. Most of the gangs don't believe I'm the real Aria yet.
Michael: They will, after all, Aria is just a symbol. As long as you exert your power over them with the Army I raised for you, they'll follow you as if you were, and then when the next generation comes in, they'll believe you are the one and only Aria.
Aria: I still hate that you took my leg and arm away from me, now I have these cybernetics. I can't exert my biotics without biotic nodes in my limbs.
Michael: When I killed Aria, I cut off her arm and leg, we had to make it seem realistic, besides cloning an arm isn't very fast and by the time we could do it, you nerves would already be dead.
Aria: Don't you own a medical company, how do you not have any cloned limbs on standby?
Michael: We did, just no Asari limbs, and I wasn't about to order one to our space station in the Olympus sector.
Aria: I understand, but I'm still not happy about it.