After a tense shuttle ride to the planet's surface, Shepard, Miranda, and Jacob began quietly investigating the ghost town of Freedom's Progress. A light dusting of snow was falling on the deserted colony, the night unnervingly quiet and serene under the circumstances. "Be on the lookout for any survivors. We're here to do a job, but let's try to avoid any collateral damage. Got it?"

Miranda and Jacob both nodded in agreement. Shepard took point as they continued forward, weapons drawn. The colony was utterly deserted. There weren't any bodies, there was nothing to indicate the tragedy that had occurred. The settlement itself reminded Shepard vaguely of some of the less developed parts of Mindoir—the same hastily-built complexes and neighborhoods, the buildings modern and minimalist. The complete silence gave her more of a chill than the snowy night air.

Without warning, the silence was broken as they exited an abandoned apartment. A bullet whizzed by Shepard's head, missing her by mere inches. "Take cover!" she said in a frantic whisper, hoping to avoid drawing more hostiles to their location. She ducked behind a nearby fence and checked to see that Miranda and Jacob were out of the line of fire as well.

Squinting through the snow flurries in the air, she tried to find the source of the shot. In the distance she could barely make out movement. She signaled the others to the direction of the shooter, and just in time. Without warning, a dog-like mech on all fours exploded out of the darkness and was upon them before Shepard could get a shot off. She leapt out of cover and backward just as it reached her, and fumbled for her shotgun. Trained as a vanguard in her youth, shotguns were Shepard's personal specialty, and she was elated when Miranda had outfitted her with a powerful Cerberus model on the shuttle earlier that evening. She quickly levelled the gun at the advancing mech and fired. Her aim was true, and the mech was destroyed in a dramatic display as the shotgun shell obliterated it.

She had no time to celebrate her quick thinking. "Get down," Miranda exclaimed, as another volley of gunfire came their way. The clumsy dog mech was clearly not responsible for the earlier close-call gunshot, and Shepard looked up to see several advancing mechs not unlike those from the Cerberus station she'd woken up on. She unleashed a biotic Throw, knocking two mechs back, and reveling in the swell of power that made her hair stand on it. Her biotics felt smoother and cleaner than ever before.

When the attacking mechs were all taken out, Shepard regrouped with Miranda and Jacob, noting with satisfaction that neither seemed fazed by the shootout. They were competent fighters. "I don't think these mechs are the culprits in the case of the missing colonists," Shepard said.

"They've been hacked, just like the ones on the base. They should have recognized us as human. They should never have even attacked," Jacob announced.

Miranda agreed. "We're not alone here."

Shepard shivered involuntarily, and not from the cold. The whole situation was odd. The total lack of bodies or injured survivors was unusual. She remembered learning about a similar story in her Earth history classes as a child, about a sixteenth-century English colony in the Americas that went missing. Roanoke, it was called. Hundreds of years later, people were still talking about it. So why wasn't anyone doing anything about the missing colonies now? Something wasn't right.

As they proceeded through the abandoned neighborhood, another wave of hostile mechs appeared. The trio didn't have much trouble dispensing with them. Shepard was pleased with the biotic abilities of both her companions, but not so much as she was with her own. She was still trying to adapt to how strong and sure she felt ever since her revival. Each biotic attack seemed more powerful than the last, and her mastery over her powers felt seamless and natural. She thought with a pang that Kaidan would have been impressed, before quickly reminding herself that Kaidan had probably moved on, that constantly thinking of him was not doing her any favors. She focused instead on the remaining enemies in their vicinity, using a Lift on a nearby mech before shooting it down with a few well-placed pistol shots.

As the last hostile mech fell with a thud, Shepard led the way into the next building, but was shocked to find it occupied, and not by mechs. She raised her weapon at the trio of quarians inside, and Miranda and Jacob followed suit.

"Stop right there!" a male quarian shouted at them, turning his own weapon at the group.

But a female quarian rushed up behind him. She was dressed in a familiar, purple environment suit. "Prazza! You said you'd let me handle this."

Shepard inhaled sharply. She would have recognized that light, feminine voice with the thick, quarian accent anywhere: Tali Zorah. Tali seemed to recognize her at the same time. "Wait . . . Shepard?"

"I'm not taking any chances with Cerberus operatives," Prazza protested. Shepard winced. She didn't like being called a "Cerberus operative" at all.

"Put those weapons down!" Tali insisted. She turned to Shepard, her voice quavering with emotion. "Shepard, is that . . . you're alive?"

"Yes. It's . . . good to see you, Tali. But please have your friends lower their guns."

Tali obliged immediately. "Prazza!" she shrieked.

Prazza and his companion, another male quarian, begrudgingly lowered his weapon. "Damnit, Tali. This is bullshit! Why would your old commander be working with Cerberus?"

"I don't know," she admitted in a small voice. "But if it's Shepard . . . I'm sure she has a reason."

Shepard's heart soared. After all this time, Tali still had so much faith in her. She wanted to wrap her old friend in a big hug, but she was painfully aware of Miranda and Jacob watching her. So instead, she tried to explain her presence to Tali. "Cerberus rebuilt me. But I'm not taking their orders. We can discuss specifics once I know why you're here."

"One of our people was here on pilgrimage," Tali explained. "His name was Veetor. We're here to find him."

"Why would Veetor come to a remote human colony for pilgrimage?" Shepard asked doubtfully.

"Quarians can choose where they go on pilgrimage. Veetor liked the idea of helping a small settlement. He was always nervous in crowds."

"She means that he was unstable," Prazza chimed in. "Combine that with damage to his suit's CO2 scrubbers and an infection from an open-air exposure—he's likely delirious."

Tali nodded in agreement. "When he saw us landing, he hid in a warehouse on the far side of the settlement. He must have programmed the mechs to attack us." That explained the mechs' hostility, but didn't help with the missing colonists. But perhaps this Veetor could provide more answers.

"Come with us. We have our own reasons for being here. When we find him, we'd like to ask him some questions."

"Like hell!" Prazza protested angrily. "I'm not teaming up with Cerberus, and I'm not letting you interrogate Veetor."

"Neither am I, Prazza," Tali reassured him with a sigh. "But we need to work together. Shepard, you and your team head to the warehouse straight through the colony. We will go around the side and try to draw off some of the mechs that could come after you."

"Why are you so against Cerberus?" Shepard asked. She had her own reasons, but the quarians vehement opposition concerned her.

"I can think of a lot of reasons," Prazza spat. "They attacked our flotilla, for one."

"That's not how I would explain it," Miranda argued, stepping toward Prazza with her hand on her weapon.

Jacob shook his head and interjected. "We can argue about who attacked who later. We have a mission, remember?" Shepard shot Jacob a grateful look. They didn't have time for petty squabbling.

"He's right," she said.

"Agreed," Tali added with finality. "We need to cooperate if we're going to get to that warehouse."

As they split up, Shepard was thankful for Tali's assistance. As she, Jacob, and Miranda made a beeline for Veetor's position, Tali periodically warned them about incoming drones and mechs. During a particularly thick wave, Miranda Overloaded a larger mech, while Jacob used Pull to attack another. Shepard charged forward and took down the remaining mechs with her shotgun, blasting them away one by one. The thrill of the fight and the chill night air exhilarated her, but her victorious high was short-lived.

As they came upon the warehouse, they were interrupted by Tali with more warnings. "Shepard, take cover; there's a heavy mech that Veetor reprogrammed just inside. Some of our own squadron has caught up with you. They might be able to aid in your assault. They are taking their positions now."

"Roger that. Jacob, Miranda, take cover on either side of these doors. I'll take point." As Miranda and Jacob followed her instructions, Shepard took cover behind a low fence and signaled Tali that they were ready. Tali, tech-savvy as ever, hacked the door controls and opened the warehouse.

An enormous heavy mech emerged, easily four times as large as the others they'd fought. It was flanked by a handful of smaller hostiles. Tali's quarian reinforcements rushed out of cover to attack, and Shepard watched in horror as several were taken out by the powerful mech. It indiscriminately stomped on or fired explosives at the helpless quarians. A few ran to cover, and Shepard noted with relief that Tali was not one of the injured or killed.

"They never stood a chance," Jacob noted over the comms. And he was right. The mech was heavily armored and packing considerable firepower, and now it trained its mechanically precise aim at Shepard and the others.

"Stay in cover!" she commanded, as a volley of shots came their way. The sound was deafening, and the heavy gunfire made the ground around them erupt in a cloud of dust, obscuring their vision. In the brief break between attacks as the mech reloaded its weaponry, Shepard quietly got into position and struggled to aim her own heavy weapon through the chaos. It was a decent grenade launcher, and she pointed it at the mech with steady, practiced hands. She had two shots—they needed to count. Shepard held her breath and fired off both grenades.

Within seconds, the payoff came as they found their targets, taking down the big mech and the lesser ones standing near it. The explosion was loud, and debris went flying in all directions. Shepard's ears were ringing and she coughed in the dust and smoke. She stood up slowly, checking for injuries and looking for Miranda and Jacob.

Tali rushed over in alarm, dropping to her knees next to an injured quarian. "Shepard, I'll tend to the wounded. Go and find Veetor. He's likely hiding out in a back room."

Shepard nodded. "Be careful, Tali." She spotted Jacob and Miranda dusting themselves off behind a stack of fuel barrels nearby. She signaled for them to follow, and the trio set off through the warehouse, stepping around the rubble from their recent skirmish while looking for Veetor.

Eventually they came to room at the back of the vast warehouse that likely served as an office or control room. Shepard signaled to the others to prepare for whatever laid behind it, and then kicked in the door with a grunt of exertion.

Inside, Veetor sat at a control panel that featured several surveillance screens and dozens of buttons and dials. His back was to them, and he was so absorbed in his work that he didn't even notice their entry. The screens showed footage of various spots around the colony by daylight. The images were blurry but Shepard could just make out the shapes of humans and . . . something else on the screens. She took a few cautious steps into the room, weapon drawn. "Veetor?" she asked gently, remembering Tali and Prazza's remarks about the quarian's mental state.

Veetor made no reply, and he didn't turn around. His hands kept busy at the controls, and he was muttering to himself. "Seekers. Swarms. Stinging. Can't get me. Mechs will protect."

"Veetor. My name is Commander Shepard. We need to ask you about what happened here," Shepard announced, right behind Veetor now. But he continued to disregard her, muttering more about "stingers," insisting that "they're all gone."

Miranda was getting fed up. "I can't believe we've come all this way, and our only witness is a babbling madman," she remarked, shaking her head in disdain.

"Be patient," Shepard reassured her, stepping hesitantly closer to Veetor. She laid a hand on his shoulder and he jumped in alarm, yelling. "Veetor. It's okay. You're safe."

Veetor turned around in the high-backed chair at last, gasping in shock as he looked at Shepard, Miranda, and Jacob. "You're . . . you're human. But how? They took the humans. All of them. Stung them, then they froze. The seekers . . ."

"We weren't here," Shepard explained calmly. "Try to tell us what happened."

Veetor took a deep, shaky breath, the sound amplified by the breather of his environment suit. "They came in an enormous ship," he began. "First it was the seekers . . . machines, but they were like bugs. When they sting, you freeze and can't move. It's some kind of venom. Then they come and take you away. They took them all away."

Shepard looked up at the screens, at the swarms of tiny bug-like machines and bigger, alien shapes. Most chilling of all were the statue-still humans, faces frozen in terror. Jacob appeared at Veetor's side. "Why weren't you taken?" he asked with a chill in his voice.

"They didn't see me. The seekers didn't find me."

"How is that possible?" Shepard asked dubiously.

"Maybe his environment suit protected him from their sensors," Jacob offered.

"Only human colonies have been targeted," Miranda pointed out solemnly. "Perhaps they are only interested in taking humans."

Jacob stepped closer to the screens, narrowing his eyes and trying to get a clearer look at the distorted images. "But who are they?"

Veetor shivered before zooming in on the image on the main screen in front of them. A large, clearly alien figure with an enormous head, an unnerving number of eyes, and armed with a gun unlike anything Shepard had seen before, was dragging a helpless, immobilized human along.

"Oh my God. It's . . . the Collectors!" Miranda exclaimed.

"What's a Collector?" Shepard asked, perplexed.

"They're a species from somewhere beyond the Omega 4 Relay. Only a few have ever seen one in person," Jacob replied.

"They usually only work through intermediaries, like slavers or hired mercenaries," Miranda added. "If they're working for the Reapers somehow, it could explain the colonies."

Shepard felt a cold, heavy feeling in her gut. The sinister looking aliens were shaping up to be a bigger threat than she felt ready face.

"We need to find someone who knows more about them," Shepard said.

"Nobody knows much," Jacob admitted. "They're so rare, a lot of people don't even believe they exist."

"More importantly," Miranda added, "we need to know why they are abducting human colonies. What are they after?"

"Veetor," Shepard turned to the nervous quarian. "What happened next?"

"Th-they put all of the humans on their ship. They left. Flew away. But they will be back for me. No one ever escapes!" He started shaking, mumbling frantically.

"I don't think we are going to get anything else out of him for now, Commander," Jacob said sympathetically, stepping toward Veetor, who flinched in terror.

"You're right. Thank you, Veetor," she said, as kindly as she could. It was frustrating to have so many unanswered questions, but at least they had leads.

"I do have something more that could help," Veetor remembered suddenly. "Those creatures . . . I recorded them on my Omni-tool. Lots of readings. I've studied them. Electromagnetic energy. Dark matter."

"We need to get this information to the Illusive Man," Miranda said quickly. "Grab this quarian and call the shuttle."

But before they could move, Tali came striding angrily into the room. "What? Veetor is injured. He needs medical treatment immediately—not an interrogation."

"We won't hurt him," Jacob insisted. "We just need to see if he knows anything else."

"Shepard, please," Tali pleaded, her voice thick with concern.

Shepard wanted more time with Veetor, but she didn't want to traumatize him further, and she valued her friendship with Tali higher than the opinion of a couple of Cerberus officers. Miranda and Jacob would be put out, but they could make do with the data alone.

"Veetor, go with Tali. But leave your Omni-tool with us. That data could save human lives." Shepard heard Miranda huff indignantly behind her, but ignored it.

"Thank you, Shepard," Tali said, relieved. "I'm glad you're still the one calling the shots here."

Shepard nodded and shook hands with her old friend before Tali guided Veetor carefully out of the room. Miranda was looking at Shepard darkly and Jacob seemed to be trying not to look at either of them. "Move out," she announced simply, picking up Veetor's Omni-tool and heading toward the shuttle.


Back on the base, Shepard had changed into her Cerberus fatigues and sent the data from Veetor's Omni-tool to the Illusive Man. It was time for her to meet with him to discuss Veetor's findings and debrief with him about Freedom's Progress. She walked back into the bare room, stood on the circular platform, and watched as the room around her dissolved, replaced by the projection of the Illusive Man's impressive office.

"Shepard," he greeted her calmly, lighting a cigarette. "Good work on Freedom's Progress. Getting the quarians to cooperate with us was quite a feat. We might take different approaches to . . . diplomacy, but I can't argue with your results." He was right. Shepard shuddered at the thought of what might have become of those quarians without her there to quell the tensions between Cerberus and Tali's squadron. Her methods had potentially improved the quarians' view of Cerberus. But what she was really interested in were the Collectors.

"You also confirmed that the Collectors are behind the attacks," the Illusive Man went on.

"Who are they?" she asked.

"They periodically travel the Terminus systems," he began, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "They gather seemingly unimportant items or specimens and usually exchange them for technology. When their transactions are complete, they disappear as quickly as they arrived, back through the Omega 4 relay into uncharted space."

"Why is the Omega 4 relay unmapped?" Shepard inquired. It seemed odd that this was the second time she'd heard of this relay today, something she'd been completely ignorant of before.

"Only that no ship passing through it has ever returned," the Illusive Man replied ominously. "Our best guess is that it's directly connected to Collector vessels, allowing only them safe passage. If they can manipulate the relays, that's just further evidence of their connection to the Reapers."

"Okay, but why are they so interested in the humans?"

"If they are agents of the Reapers, it could be any number of reasons. Obviously the humans played a huge role in the destruction of Sovereign. What concerns me is that they abduct them. After the humans are frozen, why not just kill them?"

"That is troubling," Shepard said slowly. "What are the Collectors getting out of this?"

"They aren't very forthcoming about their motives. They pay slavers and merc groups exorbitant sums for the specimens they want, and then they leave. But they've never targeted a single species before. And the previous sample sizes were in the dozens, not the tens of thousands."

Shepard gulped. The existence of the Collectors, their purpose alone was troubling enough. But their current mission to take thousands of humans for an unknown reason was incredibly troubling. "How do you know the Reapers are involved?"

"I don't," he admitted with a sigh. "But the patterns are there. You've seen this before. The Council and the Alliance want to believe the Reaper threat died with Sovereign. You and I know better. I won't wait until the Reapers are on the march. We need to take the fight to them."

Shepard was amazed to find that she agreed. But there was one problem. "I can't do this alone," she said seriously. "I know you've got the resources. I want my old team."

The Illusive Man chuckled mirthlessly, exhaling more smoke. "Shepard. Be logical. It's been two years, remember? They've moved on."

She sighed heavily, trying to mask her emotions. He was right, of course. What reason would any of them have to wait around for two years? They all thought she'd died. But the Illusive Man seemed to know more. "How do you know that?" she asked. "Where are they now?"

"I have limited intel on your old crew," he replied dismissively.

Shepard shook her head in frustration, finally asking the question that had been burning inside her for days. "Where is Kaidan Alenko?"

The Illusive Man ashed his cigarette and cleared his throat before answering. "He's still with the Alliance. Promoted, I believe. His life is . . . surprisingly well classified."

Of course he was promoted. And of course it was classified. He was probably doing extremely important work. Kaidan had always been brilliant. He was a rising star, but he'd been eclipsed by her because of the fight against Sovereign. Yet he had always been destined for greatness. She felt herself smiling, happy for him. I wonder if he's seeing anyone now. She hated herself for the thought but she couldn't help it. He was the ultimate catch after all, handsome, caring, intelligent, and now, famous. Of course he would have moved on by now. Shepard could barely stand the image of Kaidan in the arms of another woman. But the last thing she was about to do was discuss that with the Illusive Man. Instead, she asked about the rest of her crew.

"Garrus Vakarian disappeared after your death. Even we haven't been able to track him down. Tali Zorah, well, you know what she's up to now, but I am hesitant to get her on board because of our history with the quarians. It is rumored that Liara T'Soni is on Illium working for the Shadow Broker. If that's true, she can't be trusted. Urdnot Wrex went home to Tuchanka and hasn't left the planet since. He is attempting to unite the krogan clans."

Shepard wasn't sure if she could believe any of this information. It seemed awfully convenient for the Illusive Man that no one she knew or trusted previously was available. But with no other information at her disposal, she'd have to accept it for now.

"Okay," she said. "So I take it you've made other plans."

"Yes," the Illusive Man answered with a nod. "I've compiled a list with dossiers on a number of capable people. Finding them and convincing them to join our cause will be difficult, but you're a natural leader. I have every confidence in your success."

Shepard ignored the compliment. "Where do we start?"

"Miranda and Jacob will get you situated with the dossiers and a ship. You can decide where to start from there." Shepard nodded and made to turn around and leave the projection platform when the Illusive Man stopped her. "There's one more thing. Your pilot—I chose him myself. I hear he's the best. Someone you can trust." With that, he pressed a button on his side table, terminating their interview and shutting off the projection.

Shepard turned at the sound of the door opening behind her to see a familiar silhouette limping toward her. She could hardly believe her eyes. "Joker?!" Forgetting herself at the sight of the first friendly face she'd seen inside Cerberus, Shepard ran forward and threw her arms around him, pulling him fiercely into a tight hug.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Joker gasped as she nearly knocked the breath out of him. "Relax, it's not like one of us is returned from the grave or something. Oh, wait . . ."

Shepard's chuckle was muffled by Joker's chest from the closeness of their embrace. He smelled clean, like the standard issue bar soap the Alliance stocked the old Normandy with, and his arms around her felt safe and natural. She'd been putting up a façade of strength and resilience since she'd woken up, but with Joker she didn't have to pretend—she felt genuinely happy.

She backed up far enough to look up at him, and was astounded to see that despite his jokes only a moment before, he had tears glistening in his normally cheerful blue eyes. "Hey," she said consolingly. "Hey, none of that. What's the matter with you?" she asked, pulling away and punching him in the arm playfully.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "It's just . . . really, really good to see you."

Shepard smiled softly. "It's good to see you, too, Joker. But how'd you end up on this heap?" she asked, gesturing around at the Cerberus station.

"Well, when they told me that they'd . . . brought you back, I didn't believe it at first. But I didn't really have anything to lose, so I figured I would take the job. You know, just in case. I mean, I know Cerberus is bad and all, but the chance to see you again? I uh . . . I'm really glad I took it."

Shepard was at a loss for words. This wasn't quite the Joker she remembered. His openness and sincerity were moving but also unnerving. But before she could respond, he seemed to remember himself.

"But aside from all that sappy shit," he said, forcing a smile, "there's also this." He grabbed Shepard suddenly, enclosing her small hand in his. "Come on!" he exclaimed excitedly, setting off down the hall as fast as his limp would allow. Shepard was surprised at the severity of it. She wasn't the only one with scars from that day over Alchera.

After going through two sets of doors, they were in a hallway Shepard hadn't seen before, with windows looking out into a spacious hangar. "They just showed it to me today," Joker said, beaming with joy as he leaned toward the glass until the brim of his ball cap stopped him. Shepard stepped up to the window and looked out in wonder. Inside the hangar was a nearly perfect replica of the Normandy. It was beautiful, solid, and completely undamaged. Cerberus seemed to have rebuilt it from scratch. She noticed with distaste that it featured the Cerberus orange color, and that it had "SR2" where the SR1's designation used to be, but it was a remarkable vessel nonetheless.

"Joker . . . this is amazing," she breathed.

"Yeah, I know. I never thought I'd get a chance to fly a ship like this again." Joker's smile faded slightly, and he turned away from the window, looking at his feet uncomfortably.

Shepard glanced at him uneasily. "What is it?"

"Shepard, I never thought I'd fly something like this again, and I'm not sure I deserve to. It's taken all of the last two years for me to stop blaming myself for . . . for what happened to you. If you wouldn't have had to come back for me—"

"Let me stop you right there," Shepard said forcefully. "Joker, I am your commanding officer. It's my duty to make sure that all of my crew are accounted for, and it's your duty to be the best damned helmsman in the galaxy. We both took our jobs very seriously that day, maybe to a fault. But the only people to blame are whichever bastards are responsible for that attack. And that's the last I want to hear of it. Understood?"

"Yeah," he responded, his voice quavering slightly. Shepard reached over and took his hand, squeezing it encouragingly, as if to reassure him that there was nothing to forgive—she was alive, after all. His palm held the rough traces of a callous from constantly running his hands over steering controls all his life, but his touch was warm and pleasant. Shepard's reunion with Tali had been tense and short-lived. This was the first moment she'd had with a friend in . . . well, two years, she realized in amazement. She didn't want to let go.

Joker broke the silence abruptly. "Well," he began brightly, awkwardly dropping her hand and making to leave through another doorway, "the new ship is pretty damned advanced, but I don't think it can give you a tour of itself."

Shepard giggled. "No, I expect not."

"Well that's where I come in," Joker's trademark grin was back, the emotional scene of moments before forgotten. "Shall we?"

"Absolutely," Shepard returned, falling into step beside him. "I already know what to name her."