The sunlight dimly spread into the wide black chamber, the aqua coloration of its outer layer contrasted with the bright solid orange of the displays assembled across the window. The single occupant sat in the single chair in the center of the room, holding a cigarette to his mouth as he browsed through the files.
The smoke slowly wafted away from the Illusive Man as he exhaled, and knocked ash into his tray. Several screens became snowy for a moment as the cloud drifted through them, the light refracting off of the inside of the smoke.
Most in the inner colonies and on Sol had done away with conventional tobacco, for obvious reasons, and even electronic cigarettes had become increasingly rare. Ever since Shanxi, however, the Illusive Man had loved the things, and spent significant sums to get regular tobacco shipments from colonies that could dodge those regulations and social orders.
Manswell's Copernicus colony was a good place for the crop. That billionaire had done quite a job making Alpha Centauri a home, especially considering the planet's original temperature when they had first gotten there.
Earth plants usually didn't grow well on goldilocks-type planets, but it was much easier to get an Earth-biosphere going on those worlds without any indigenous plant life to fight back.
Lucky the Reapers didn't think Alpha Centauri was a prime target; it would be inconvenient if the best Terran tobacco left in the galaxy was destroyed.
The thought of the Manswell Expedition brought to mind the possibility of other lost colonies..
The thought brought to mind the Bolo.
That tank.
He inhaled another cloud of fumes, and selected a control, bringing up a text document with a diagram of the Bolo featured.
"From a lost colony" indeed, anyone with access to cached versions of extranet sites could see that all information about the marvelous machine had been added the day it was revealed.
And what a machine it was. It resisted their best cyber warfare efforts with ease, incapacitated the agent who had tried to board, and nearly single-handedly ended the siege of Palaven and Taetrus.
The computer systems were more advanced than anything ever seen, perhaps more than the Reapers themselves.
Its primary weapons fired plasma, and had an estimated output of several megatons at least. Its secondaries had similar output, and the tertiary weapon systems were heavy artillery batteries and missiles, carrying more firepower than a pre-space military.
It could ensure victory against the Reapers, and human dominance over the galaxy, and the fools used it to save the damned Turians.
Then there were its friends. The "Cloud Defense Force". Recon had no idea where the frigate involved in the Genophage Cure retrieval mission, the Mako, had originated. Curious, normally no one could escape Cerberus reconnaissance, especially not human vessels, but the only information they had were rumors of strange craft in the general area of the Krogan home system.
There was also this General Graham, if he even was a military officer. He had humanity's best interests at heart(or so it seemed), but even so was clearly unfit to command the Bolo. He could have held the Citadel at gunpoint, take control and use his resources to build the Crucible.. Instead he appeased the Council and took back Palaven.
Disloyal, useless, futile, the only way to win was to take control of the Reapers and wipe out all other inferior races...
He inhaled suddenly, held his breath, and exhaled.
The aliens would always be a potential threat, but they were still people. Humanity just needed to ensure dominance to prevent Earth's extermination, not commit genocide.
The Illusive Man shook his head and turned to another display, an image of a human body.
Having gathered information from what medical scans they could get away with, and the blood samples and fingerprints recovered from C-Sec, Cerberus had found that General Graham very clearly was not from their little corner of the galaxy. His DNA revealed evidence of minute, yet very advanced genetic tampering. His bones were extremely tough, and he was able to heal exponentially faster from minor wounds. His fingerprints also were not in any major database, but that came as no surprise to anyone; many distant colonies were lax on certain types of registration.
C-Sec x-rays had also revealed that he had several implants in his body. Some sort of communication device, electronic contact lenses, and several other pieces of technology that they couldn't identify. Several of them seemed to be damaged, and scar tissue indicated that there had been several more. These had been delicately, but violently removed by some sort of medical laser.
The flu outbreak on the Citadel after he arrived was indicative that his colony had been separated from the major human population long enough to develop a separate strain of the virus. There was also a variety of other minor illnesses, some known, others unidentifiable, but the amount was clear evidence that he had been in an unsanitary location without healthcare around a large amount of other humans; I.E. a prison camp, as he had said.
There were even traces of artificial biodegradable materials in his bloodstream, as well as several operational nanobots, constructed from the same materials, but had been injected recently. These were currently being studied by Cerberus' biological warfare division.
The Illusive Man inhaled a cloud of smoke, and pulled up a different display, this time a very detailed schematic of the Bolo alone. Nothing could penetrate the hull, they had tried everything from x-rays to sonar, and all they had was its basic length, width, and height. Mass was incalculable without knowledge of its construction.
The alloys it was made of were beyond the most advanced sciences available, a nuclear device would at best keep the pilot trapped for a few days until the Bolo could leave the irradiated area. The shields were better than that of the Reapers, they could not only stop energy weapons, but were in fact charged by them. Analysis of the impact patterns on Menae suggested that it might even have an anti-gravity system. Its AI was better than that of the Enhanced Defense Intelligence and the Geth to boot.
However, images also revealed significant damage to several portions of the Bolo. One of its primary cannons had suffered a massive impact that rendered the weapon inoperable, and a hole in its upper hull had been hastily covered by a thinner layer of armor.
These...he struggled with the name, Clackers might be as powerful as Graham said they were.
Nothing in the known galaxy, not even the Reapers could hope to stop the Bolo, so whatever the Clackers were, they added more evidence to the prevailing theory about the origin of the machine.
It quite possibly could have come from the future.
Really, all the evidence pointed to this. Colonies unknown to humanity, alloys, weapons, and shields beyond anything currently in the galaxy. Unidentifiable bacteria detected in Graham's bloodstream, nanotechnology far in advance of their own, and a genetic tree far too many generations removed from any known one to be contemporary.
The question was, how had it gotten here? Was it natural, some cosmic coincidence? The product of a god? Or was it artificial, the result of an experiment gone wrong? A deliberate attempt to travel back in time?
Its databanks posed a significant threat. With the information the machine held, anyone could radically alter the timeline, and change the balance of galactic power much more than even the Bolo's weaponry could.
Like dropping a modern aircraft carrier outside Pearl Harbor the day before the attack…He mused.
Unfortunately, not much could be done to directly control the Bolo. After their infiltrator had been incapacitated by the Bolo, the majority of their Citadel deep cover operatives had ceased all contact.
A mere slip up was thought to be the cause, during the first few disappearances, to be expected when working with double agents. What was strange about this particular instance, however, was how all of their monitoring devices had gone offline within mere minutes of each other.
The Illusive Man smirked respectfully as he brought up the message transmitted by the Bolo when the last man had disappeared. "They are under my protection."
Impressive. Discovering all of their best operatives from just the single captured infiltrator's equipment. He could almost believe the Bolo was more than just a machine.
They would need to change their approach. Cerberus did serve humanity after all, and so did the Bolo. Why, Graham would just love to have the support of humanity's best and brightest if he was educated of their true nature!
More effort would need to be put into locating the rest of the CDF, and turn them back towards the light.
That Alliance probe could now be dealt with safely as well, there was no one left to investigate if it "happened" to have a malfunction.
They needed to find out what the origin of those strange readings had been.
XXXXX
Tuchanka
The command center was deathly silent.
Dark as dark gets, too.
No windows that could shine in on the gloomy chamber, no displays to brighten it. Everything was locked up tight and shut down.
The lighting systems were long dead, vermin had hungrily devoured most of the delicious copper wiring. They had also eaten any controls using soft materials, and most of the physical command consoles were battered and beaten, their innards exposed to the creatures that live in the deep places of the world..
The displays, physical screens not holograms, were cracked and inactive.
Large chairs, built for inwardly-arching backs and tails, sat ready at their stations, as they had been for nearly a thousand years or so; and so they would for perhaps another thousand if they had to.
Suddenly...There! A shaft of light!
The bulkhead moaned and shuddered, dust falling down in clouds around the ancient door, the logo once emblazoned upon it erased by time. Finally, after such a racket, it opened a crack, scaring several pests away as the vile ultraviolet beams began to penetrate the long silence.
With a creak, it opened wider.
"Christ, what did you seal that thing with?" a strained human voice shattered the silence completely. There was a whir of electronic servos as the hatch squeaked open another few millimeters.
"Duct tape and Turian blood, pyjak. Pull!" a deep feminine voice ordered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
The metal only whined, moaned, and squealed in response, refusing to budge like a stubborn child.
"The door's warped. Will you let me fix it?" a third exasperated tone asked.
"We don't need those things. My exoskeleton is all we need." the first doubtfully said after a pause.
"Screw the exoskeleton, muscle's all we need…" the second voice stated.
"Shut up and move. Quit trying to one-up each other and let someone who knows what they're doing work."
A chorus of grumbles filled the chamber as a shadow fell over the doorframe. With a grunt, the owner of the second voice slammed something against the ancient bulkhead.
Several explosions worked in concert to echo through the command center, as the bent edges of the hatch reversed their centuries of warping in an instant.
"Now you can flirt." the third voice laughed.
With mutters of denial, the other two began to pull the door open again.
The three figures appeared in the doorway.
One towered over the others, a large head silhouetted in the light slightly raised above broad shoulders. Three fingers were on the hands that held a large crowbar. A Krogan.
The second in the middle, a human, was slightly shorter than either of her compatriots, wearing a set of power armor and holding a large sledgehammer, covered in a light layer of soot from the engineering micro-explosives. The handle began to collapse in on itself as she put it on her side.
Her suit had more armor than that of most powered BDUs, and several additions. Containers of fluids and gasses were mounted on her back above a roll of cable, connected to several devices positioned around the arms. Combat engineers had a lot of equipment.
The third was taller the second, but not as tall as the Krogan. He wore his own set of combat engineer powered armor, a plasma torch collapsing into his power armor's right arm.
The human's power armor had silver coloration on the upper chest, upper arms, and lower legs, while the opposite areas were colored in blue.
"This place stinks, what died in...Oh." He noticed a skeleton in the corner.
"Hopefully the batteries held up…" the Krogan muttered and moved to the raised command platform. In the center was a once-lavish and grand swivel chair, that was now coated with a thick layer of dust.
A command console stood off to one side of the chair, and the Krogan went to stand before it.
She brushed off several more skeletons, and hit a large button, then flipped several switches.
Nothing.
She growled, and tried the sequence again.
Still nothing.
The Krogan slammed her fist into the side of the console, noting a dent as old at as the ship in the same spot her hand landed. Obediently, it began to power up.
"Banks, reactor control's over there." She pointed to a corner of the command center.
"Right," the female human engineer acknowledged.
"Pyjak, navigation's there."
The other engineer grumbled again as he went to a forward console.
Several of the surviving lights activated, as the room began to hum and course with energy.
"Reactor's out of reaction mass, but the emergency backups are working."
"Pyjak?" the Krogan asked as she moved to the back wall.
The male engineer huffed, pulled off his helmet and replied, "Navigation's online, but without the main reactor, we can't take off. Shields...Wait, kinetic barriers are like that too. They work, but we don't have enough power to keep them on for long."
"Weapons are completely totalled," Banks reported, "Ammo, electricity, targeting systems...You name a problem, we've got it."
A holographic display appeared on the back wall before the Krogan. Several bar graphs were revealed, all red with Krogan lettering "I think I found life support. What a surprise, everything's out."
Banks sighed, "Jesus, everything down to the kitchen sink."
"What?" the Krogan asked, "What kitchen sink?"
"It's an idiom or something, forget about it...Anyway, this thing is gonna need some major yard work to even totally power up."
'Yeah, but it'll be worth it." She hit a control, and on the wall above the life support console, a pair of lights lit up.
The revealed a square plaque, with a border around a globe of a green planet, with a Krogan in fancy armor and bearing a large bird on his shoulders overlaid onto it.
IWS Invincible was written in the border on top, and DN-01 on the bottom. Not that the humans could read it, it was all in ancient Krogan script.
It took a minute for everyone to realize that the globe was Tuchanka...Many, many years ago.
"My ancestors built these things to last, and we're gonna get it operational. If those quad-less Council pyjaks don't like it, talk to the dreadnought." said Talyth Kharnu of clan Talyth, direct descendant of Fleetlord Talyth Kerg, commander of the last Krogan fleet a thousand years ago.
Her voice took on a grand, almost reverent tone, though slightly cliched, like that of a narrator.
"We are not leaving the Invincible to crumble into dust, forgotten in the ruins. She will walk amongst the stars once again until she can fight no more. The Imperial warship Invincible, the first and only surviving Krogan dreadnought, will rise from the grave to destroy all the Reapers, save the Council races, and let the Krogan reclaim their place in the galaxy."
Kharnu's speech was underscored by her striding up to the command chair, and dramatically seating herself upon it.
"This is it. The dawn of a new age." She confidently proclaimed to the world.
The mood was utterly ruined when the sound of a panel falling resounded through the bridge. Newly-nicknamed engineer pyjak had removed a panel from a console, and released a swarm of space cockroaches that had used it as a nest, and were now desperately seeking escape from the chamber.
The engineer was pursuing them, his plasma torch alight as he stomped and burned the horde.
Kharnu saw another Korgan entering the bridge step out of the way as pyjak and the cockroaches ran by.
"What's with these humans and being scared of bugs?" the arrival asked.
"No idea, they're weird people." Kharnu sighed.
XXXXX
The alarm quietly chirped once, and gently vibrated Shepard's bed.
The sound of guitar strings being strung resounded through the compartment, a slightly upbeat tune filling the Captain's Cabin with a sweet melody.
The greatest adventure is what lies ahead…Today and tomorrow are yet to be said…
The voice was soothing, calm, and gentle. The singer rolled his words, but still had careful enunciation.
The chances, the changes are all yours to make...The mold of your life is in your hands to break…
Shepard sat up, shaking his head clear of the grogginess that filled it, and smiled as he heard the old song.
The greatest adventure is there if you're bold...Let go of the moment that life makes you hold…To measure the meaning, can make you delay; it's time you stop thinking and wasting the day…
He pulled back the covers, and swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his pants and combat boots.
The man who's a dreamer and never takes leave...Who thinks of a world that is just make-believe...Will never know passion, will never know pain...Who sits by the window will one day see rain...
Shepard decided against a "real honest-to-god shower", and instead went for what astronauts had been using for centuries; special non-rinse shampoo.
It worked for hygiene, and didn't make the ship smell like something died in a latrine.
The greatest adventure is what lies ahead...Today and tomorrow are yet to be said...
He made sure his omni-tool was charged, and headed for the elevator, mumbling the last lyrics of the song.
The chances, the changes are all yours to make...The mold of your life is in your hands to break…
He grinned like crazy, feeling happy for no good reason. Why not? He was going to have breakfast with four of the people he cared about most in the world...Or galaxy.
"The greatest adventure is what lies ahead…" He finished in a soft whisper as the hatch closed cutting off all sound, and the reassuring whir of the servos kicking in.
Who cared if it was a daily thing? He liked having some of the old gang back together.
He emerged from the elevator on the crew deck, noting again that the light bulbs needed to be replaced.
Shepard retrieved a tray from the kitchen area, the least horribly-tasting pre-wrapped sandwich, and a drink. There was Vega, at the central table of the mini-mess hall, chatting with Liara.
Her head was resting on her hand, and she was blinking rapidly as Vega droned on excitedly.
"...So I had the T-rex in a headlock, and was about to make him beg for mercy, when…"
Shepard strategically slammed down his own tray, jerking the tired and bored doctor awake.
"Morning all," he spoke cheerfully and loudly, "Am I interrupting anything?"
"Hey, loco. The doc and I were just exchanging stories," the lieutenant replied with a higher degree of glee, "You wouldn't believe some she has!"
"You left me out of storytime? I'm hurt!"
Liara rolled her eyes, and laughed, "Don't worry, you didn't miss much. James here was still regaling me with his first tale."
The door to the forward battery hissed open softly, and out stumbled an exhausted Turian. Garrus rubbed his eyes, and shuffled towards the mess hall, retrieving a dextro-amino acid ration pack.
Slumping down on the bench next to Vega, he struggled to open the foil wrapping.
Wrex wasn't too far behind, and picked up his own tray from the kitchen.
On the Krogan's tray was a large cooked bird of some kind, larger than a turkey in fact. It could have been a dodo bird for all anyone knew.
When he took a seat next to Shepard and Liara,, he banged a knee against the table, and the bench creaked slightly.
The commander and Liara slowly began to slide towards Wrex as the end of the seat rose under the weight.
"Liara. Shepard."
"Wrex." they acknowledged.
After several minutes of quiet eating, Garrus spoke up. "Okay, I'll ask. What does everyone think about the 'Cloud' people?"
There was another pause as everyone thought it over.
"They've got some nice guns," Vega started, "and that Bolo of theirs is pretty awesome. Glad they're on our side."
"They've been good to my people so far. They haven't tried to exterminate us, so that's a plus." Wrex commented. "I think they're a bit behind the times though. When we first met them, they kept calling us 'Grakaan'. I haven't heard that name in a long time."
"It's the name of your species in one of your ancient languages, correct?" Liara inquired.
"Yeah. On a lot of the old pre-nuking buildings back home, you see a lot of "property of the Grakaan people' signs. I don't know why aliens would use it, no one speaks that language anymore." Wrex grunted.
"Could be an attempt to be respectful." Garrus mused.
"They're doing a good job of it. The rest of their fleet has been giving us a lot of assistance on Tuchanka."
He grinned, "Not big guns, actually. Stuff to make us survive, light-years ahead of the Salarian junk. Clean water, medicine, and a bunch of genetically-engineered crops that won't wimp out at the first sign of disease! Took a while for us to get my scientists to listen though."
Wrex took a massive bite of his meal, "Those humans have massive quads! One of their leaders, Pres-something, managed to knock Fortack onto the floor with a headbutt! Beat your record, Shepard."
The commander nodded distractedly, deep in thought.
"Has anyone noticed how odd they act? Some of what I heard Graham and Hector say doesn't really add up. For example, there are no records of a 'Bolo' tank in any historical military database, especially not around 2000."
"So what? Maybe they got their facts wrong. I forget history all the time." Vega said.
"A human making that mistake, I'd believe. But a computer? Can't be. Also, he said something about Cloud being established a couple decades ago. Before we found the ruins on Mars."
"Well, maybe it was one of those sublight ships you sent out," Garrus offered, "Didn't an Asari research team get captured by one last year?"
Shepard shook his head, "Not many were sent out, actually. Even so, how could they establish a big enough infrastructure to build the Bolo within the time limit?"
"I will admit," Liara added, "This is very puzzling. I haven't heard anything about any lost human ships from my contacts. Cloud should have turned up by now. However, General Graham did at some point mention there was some sort of large war going on when the original colonists left Earth, maybe the records of the launch were destroyed during the fighting."
"The Second American Civil War? No, not enough time for that. Even then, something would have been left over."
"Hmm, certainty impossible." A rapid voice spoke as a door hissed open. Mordin emerged from the medical bay, and swiftly crossed the distance.
"Many special operations across all species history. Some still hidden. Identity of all League of One operatives, still unknown."
Wrex coughed loudly, Garrus, Liara, and Shepard all exchanged glances.
Mordin laughed, "I know about your 2183 expeditions. I work for STG again, you know. Have access to old contacts. I commend you for your efforts, despite the tension the League caused."
"Mordin, how could my planet hide a colony ship launch? Any launch would have been detected…" Shepard asked.
"Yes, but detection systems primitive, if time period and family trees taken into account. Cannot be absolutely certain of no possible launches." He grabbed a ration bar of his own from the kitchen, opening it, and eating half of it in a blink.
"But the Alpha Centauri mission was detected last year, and had only been there for a few years. How could these people have stayed hidden for several decades?"
Mordin grimaced, "Been running analyses that I could get away with. General Graham several generations more removed than his community should be. Generation removal spans several centuries, not just decades."
He inhaled as he always did before a conclusion, "Either is lying, or has been lied to. Either conclusion possible."
With that, he left them alone again.
"Graham's been lying to us." Vega immediately concluded in a growl.
"What's the problem?" Wrex of all people asked.
"He lied about his colony! Who knows what's really going on..."
"He's not lying." Wrex's playful demeanor completely changed, and his entire body tensed.
Vega, determined to hold his ground, replied, "How do you know? His sob story about the conquered colony? The magic technology that can save us all and magically defeats all the Reapers? Can't believe we fell for it."
"I said, he's. Not. Lying." Wrex stood up, jostling the table.
"Wrex…" Shepard started, but even he was silenced by the force of Wrex's glare.
"So his people weren't bombed from orbit? Left to rot in a prison for a year? Didn't die by the hundreds as they dug through their own ruins? No," his voice took a sarcastic turn, "Maybe it was the Reapers just making it up and programming him. Did you even meet Graham? If he's anything like his officers, he's lost a ton of weight. Hard to fake that."
He stepped out from the bench and moved to go around the table, but Vega beat him to it. "The Reapers probably did program him! Who knows what they're are planning-"
Wrex loomed over the lieutenant, "Stop. Talking. Don't disrespect them."
"Don't disrespect the liars?"
"Don't disrespect the only people who ever gave a damn about my race's well-being!" The Krogan roared, and raised a fist to strike.
"Wrex!" Garrus pulled out his ever-present sidearm, Liara and Shepard both glowed with biotic energy, as Vega darted back into a combat stance.
Remarkably, Wrex's didn't hit Vega. It hung there in the air, shaking, as his rapid breathing became the only sound in the chamber.
Slowly, his arm fell to his side.
"They, are the only goddamn people in this galaxy who ever tried to help my people!" Wrex seemed willing to finish this with words, not violence. He'd changed.
"A few months ago, they came out of nowhere, and gave us food, clean water, medicine! They aren't trying to make us fight their war! They're helping us become a people again! My throne was on top of a reservoir of clean water, and we didn't even know it!"
"That's just what the Salarians did, pendejo!" Vega barked.
Wrex stomped a dent into the deck, "Damn it, that's not the point! The Salarians just let us survive, gave us guns and pointed out the door! They didn't help us recover cultural artifacts lost for thousands of years, like paintings, or holy scripture!"
"What? What did you find? What was it like? What-" Liara began to gush, but she hesitated when Wrex seemed to notice her for the first time.
He nodded to her to continue. She regained control of herself, and thought for a moment, "Have you recovered any music?"
Wrex grinned, "Morale has been higher than it's ever been, because we found the most glorious stuff I've ever heard. And I hate that classical shit!"
He activated his omni-tool, and after a second of silence, music filled the room. Drums, violins, horns, trumpets, name an instrument and it sounded like it was there. Epic, powerful, amazing. There were few other words to describe it.
When it was over, no one spoke. The tension was gone.
Vega looked embarrassed.
"Thank you, Wrex." Liara smiled.
"Our ancestors were amazing people." Wrex said as a reply.
"Yes. They were." Another deep voice agreed.
Eve, the female Krogan, had emerged from the medical bay.
"That was the Symphony of Kruban, performed by Qayrloc Qrikar two years before the holocaust. Legend has it that he survived the war, and wandered the planet performing, instead of fighting."
She pushed past Vega to stand before Wrex. "Where did you find that recording?"
"In an intact library that had been buried under an old skyscraper. No one had bothered to investigate, so it was completely untouched. Not even the pyjaks had gotten into it!" Wrex excitedly replied.
Eve nodded, "Why did you go to this library? For technical manuals, weapons technology?"
"No, no. We were looking for everything. Aliens don't know how to grow food on Tuchanka, and neither do we. The ancients knew. They had maps of water and mineral deposits too. Farmland, industrial facilities. We need to rebuild, so that we can be who we used to be."
"Does 'who we used to be' mean starting the rebellions all over again?" She growled, her eyes narrowing.
"No. That wasn't us. That was the Salarians screwing us up, making us their attack dogs and telling us where to fight, not why. We need to know why to fight, we need to be Krogan again. The ancients knew what Krogan were like."
Perhaps I have misjudged him...Eve thought, "Interesting. I never thought males had more than five brain cells."