Chapter Three

Power hits it like a tidal wave, slamming into circuits and fragile brain nodes. For an instant Part 71338912 is overcome by the surge of energy, and then the current equalizes and thought begins again. It is functioning. This is good. Diagnostic checks buzz through its system, counting up an ever-growing list of small damages, but for the most part functionality has been achieved. Part 71338912's eye cycles open. Exposure and saturation are instantly adjusted, and the figure of a man comes into view. It is Shepard, standing warily behind a glowing blue field.

Part 71338912 sits up. It is in a small room, dimly lit by a florescent light strip in the ceiling.

Shepard draws closer. "Can you understand me?"

"Yes," replies the geth.

"Are you going to attack me?"

"No."

Shepard taps the surface of his omni-tool, and the barrier between them vanishes. He stands with his chest up and his eyes on the geth, unafraid. "You said my name aboard the reaper. Have we met?"

"We know of you."

"You mean I've fought other geth."

"We have never met."

Shepard frowns. ""No, you and I haven't, but I have met other geth."

"We are all geth, and we have not met you," says the machine. "You are Shepard. Commander. Alliance. Fought Heretics. Killed by the collectors. Rediscovered on the Old Machine."

"What do you mean, heretics?" asks Shepard.

Part 71338912 wonders how to explain this to an organic. It settles for the simple explanation. "Geth build our own future. The Heretics asked the Old Machines to give them the future. They are no longer part of us."

"So... You aren't allied with the reapers?"

"We oppose the Heretics. We oppose the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the Heretics. Cooperation furthers mutual goals."

"Are you asking to join us?"

Part 71338912 considers this for a fraction of a second. It makes perfect sense. Shepard and the geth working together. Very closely together. Who said that? That was not necessary. Cooperation is logical. The collective would approve. There is no other reason for the decision. "Yes," it says.

Shepard nods agreement. "Then what should I call you?"

"Geth."

"I mean you, specifically."

"We are all geth."

Shepard makes a small sound of frustration. "What is the individual in front of me called?"

"There is no individual. We are geth. There are currently 1,183 programs active within this platform."

Without warning, a blue hologram appears in the corner of the room. A modulated voice emanates from hidden speakers. "My name is legion, for we are many."

Part 71338912 absorbs this. The artificial voice was quoting an ancient sacred text. This in itself gives the words a certain power. The words themselves are somehow fitting though. Part 71338912 is made up of many fractions, and is itself a part of a vast organism comprised of millions. Legion. We are legion. The geth considers this, and finds that it is true.

"That seems appropriate," says Shepard, seemingly amused.

"Christian bible. The gospel of Mark. Chapter five. Verse nine," says Legion. "We acknowledge this as an appropriate metaphor. We are Legion, a terminal of the Geth. We will integrate into Normandy."

Shepard nods. He extends a hand. Legion takes it, shakes gently. It has been quite a day.