Chapter 1: Debriefing
Jared Shepard stared out the window into the vast expanse of space. It had been months since he returned to the home system, and for all the travelling he had done, there was still something captivating about the rings of Saturn. No matter how far he would go and no matter how many things he had seen, there was still always home: Earth, Sol, the Alliance. Home.
He needed something to remember because there were too many things that needed to be forgotten. Computers that decided the logical path was the annihilation of humanity, rampaging beasts that sought to make him into an appetizer, and those were just the obvious threats. What were the Reapers, he wondered, haunted by the mechanical embryo he had seen the Collectors…no, the Protheans built.
Remembering they were a civilization once made the threat real. They represented the future unless he did something, unless everyone did something. It wasn't that Shepard wanted this responsibility. He joined the military to follow orders, not to give them, but the mission couldn't be ignored. Live, or die. Fight, or die. Kill, or die.
His head fell as he considered that last thought. Three hundred thousand dead by his hand. Jared didn't allow himself to think too deeply on decisions like that, but the destruction of the Bahak System was only the latest casualty in a war he had already been fighting for years. If the rest of the galaxy could go forward without joining, maybe it would be worth the cost. One man's soul seemed a fair trade, especially for everyone who wasn't Shepard.
And yet, as unconscionable as the destruction of a whole star system would seem, it was a kindness to simply move on rather than face what the Reapers had in store. As tens or hundreds of thousands of colonists had already discovered from the Collector abductions, there are fates far worse than death. To be forced into a hive, reduced to DNA and automatons for some dark ancient force would be worse. It would be a fate you wouldn't even wish on a Batarian slaver.
But the time for thinking was approaching an end, and this was a time for action. Jared Shepard faded into the background of his own mind and the indomitable Commander Shepard re-emerged. Confident, collaborative, but unapologetic, he was the face of the galaxy when it came to fighting this Reaper threat, and he knew his best would be the minimum with which he could even hope to succeed. He also knew the threats he would now be facing would be at least as dangerous to him personally as the Reapers: Politicians.
Stepping back from the window, Shepard walked toward the exit of his spacious cabin and collected his facial expression to the calm and collected demeanor he always carried. Pressing the intercom switch, he reached the Command Deck.
"Kelly, has the Admiral boarded yet?"
On the bridge, the reply came from Yeoman Kelly Chambers, the morale officer, psychologist, and ship secretary all rolled up into one.
"He is boarding now. Would you like to meet him in the communications room?"
"No," Shepard replied. "Send him to the medical bay instead. Less formal."
"Aye, sir," Chambers replied and followed the orders with precision as was her custom.
Shepard entered the elevator to begin the descent to the third deck. He knew that Admiral Hackett would want to know what happened on the last mission, a personal favor Shepard undertook to rescue Dr. Amanda Kenson, an Alliance operative. Before leaving, he knew little of what her purpose was other than his objective was to secure her release through any means necessary.
With a wry expression, he thought about how any means meant destroying a prison, an asteroid, a mass relay, and the good doctor herself. Shepard wondered if it was just his luck that made every mission so eventful.
The elevator door opened and Shepard walked into the medical bay. Standing before him in the dress blue uniform of the Alliance Navy stood Admiral Steven Hackett, Commander of the Fifth Fleet, and Shepard's long time commanding officer.
"Admiral, welcome aboard the Normandy," was the diplomatic opening offered.
"Shepard." The terse reply offered by the grey haired admiral revealed the stress he was facing. A lifetime soldier, Hackett was not one to mince words needlessly, and he took the measure of the Commander with his eyes. The look of disbelief was one that Shepard had learned to accept, as so many people had heard of his death and thought the Specter might actually more truly be a ghost.
Nodding his head slowly as if in acceptance, Hackett responded after a momentary pause: "Good to see you, man. But I have one question."
"Yes?" was the equally direct reply from the Commander who had now taken a seat beside one of the tables.
"You were sent on a mission to recover one lost operative. Can you please explain why you destroyed an entire star system?" With eyes trained to wilt a lesser man, Hackett stared at Shepard and waited for an explanation.
"Did you have a chance to review the report that I sent?" asked Shepard.
Interrupting any potential response, Hackett grabbed a datapad and slapped it against his weathered hand. "Yes, I read this, but my God, was it truly real?"
The Commander looked at the Admiral and offered a single nod.
The Admiral began to pace about the room, shaking his head as he walked. "You know, no one will believe this. They didn't believe you about Saren, they don't want to believe about the Reapers, and now you just killed three hundred thousand Batarians."
Shepard knew he was being dressed down from having many years experience working with the admiral and elected to wait as the senior officer finished his thoughts. He thought about how he didn't kill a damned person, but he just came in and handled an impossible situation as best he could, like he always did.
"Was it worth it, Jared?" was the question that eventually escaped the lips of the admiral.
"Two minutes more and the Reaper fleet would already be here at Earth. I had no choice." Shepard looked upon the senior officer.
"You did what you had to do. You're a good soldier, Shepard." Admiral Hackett walked up to the Commander and put a hand on his shoulder. "We live in times where we all have to be hard men, and though people won't remember this now, maybe history will remember that you gave us a fighting chance."
Collecting himself, Hackett walked back to his own seat and grabbed the datapad, skimming over the details: "It sounds like Dr. Kenson wasn't very helpful."
"Well, she did save my life after she shot me, so I guess she couldn't be all bad," was the sarcastic reply offered by Shepard. "Of course, if she hadn't kept me sedated for two days as a prize of war for the Reapers, we might have saved some of those Batarians."
"I saw that. Did you see this Object Rho?" Hackett asked without looking up from the report placed before him.
"Yes, I did. I was attacked by it. It was a Prothean artifact that caused me to see another vision." He thought back to how he saw the entire Reaper fleet massing outside the first mass relay, the link to the rest of the galaxy. The Alpha Relay, as it was called, because it had the misfortune to be closest to the one known Reaper force. Hopefully, there would only be one and that would be bad enough.
"Visions, Shepard". The Admiral looked up thoughtfully. "You're as much a soothsayer as a soldier these days." He smiled for the first time. "Then again, last time someone came back from the dead, it was a pretty big deal also."
Like many soldiers, they shared faith in something more. Natives of North America, both came from areas where Christianity still thrived, and while the god prayed to by all soldiers was the more ecumenical variety beseached to protect every man in a pinch, the allusion wasn't lost. Shepard often thought of his larger purpose, wondering alternately if he was here as an instrument of the divine for protection, or if his travails were simply proof there was nothing more. Millions of years being swallowed by terrible aliens like the Reapers brought more questions than answers.
Returning from the thought inside his head, Shepard said, "You must have known what was happening out there before you sent me…"
Hackett interjected. "We had suspicions. Dr. Kenson was one of our best, and an asset we had to protect at any price."
Looking at the table, Hackett noticed a bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy sitting there, and found two glasses. Opening the bottle, he poured himself a glass and offered one also to Shepard who accepted.
Hackett took a long drink and began talking, "Amanda was a friend once. Intelligent, determined, everything you could want in an operative."
He paused another moment before continuing, "Losing her will be painful, but it sounds like she was already gone by the time you got there, Jared."
Shepard reflected on his experience with Dr. Kenson and how she seemed possessed. Indoctrination had broken many minds as he had seen on Feros, Virmire, and now Aratoht. A person stopped being themselves, and became simply the instrument of the controller's will.
"She didn't tell us a damned thing!" exclaimed the admiral. "If she hadn't been captured, we wouldn't have known the Reapers were coming. None of her reports told us of any threat, of any countdown like you said."
It made sense when Shepard thought about it. If she was truly under the sway of the invading fleet, she wouldn't have done anything to draw attention to their approach. Everyone wanted to believe the best anyway, so there wouldn't be more questions asked than necessary, and if observation could be undertaken without enflaming the Batarians, that would be an added bonus.
Admiral Hackett continued, "We'll mourn her, later. I don't want any of this getting public, as it is already bad enough that a Batarian system is now off the map."
"Jared, forgive for me saying this, but those colonists dying is probably the only thing keeping the Systems Alliance from open war with the Batarian Hegemony. If they knew you caused this, there would be blood. No survivors means no stories either, and for your sake, it better stay that way."
It made Shepard sick to think of the political benefits of so many people dying, but Hackett's logic was sound. It sounded like someone else's suggestion, maybe someone like that sniveling Udina on the Citadel, but he was right. If he could forget this mission, that would be fine by Shepard.
"Yes, sir. The Normandy was never there as far as I was concerned."
"Good man, Commander."
A moment of silence hung between them as they both took a drink. Both were in thoughts somewhere else. For the vast of expanse of space, there would never be any gulf between the stars as wide as that between what they wished to be true and what they knew to be reality. Moments were becoming precious. Thought time had been bought, it carried a high price and was only a temporary reprieve. Shepard knew this and saw that Hackett did too.
"Commander," the admiral began, "I want you to report to Earth and to Alliance Command. They have questions about this mission and what you've been doing these last few months."
He paused to take a sip. "Frankly, so do I. You know Cerberus and the Alliance don't always see eye to eye. I respect their willingness to step up and take action, but I don't trust mercenaries."
Shepard agreed, "I don't trust them either. They built me this ship, helped me get a crew, and honestly, they built me also." He smiled his own little acknowledgment, "But I don't trust the Illusive Man. He set a trap at Horizon using my crew as the bait. I knew then this couldn't work."
Hackett nodded. "These trillionaire types are all the same. They buy and sell people without thinking of the consequences and trust men like us to get the real work done."
He looked thoughtfully at Shepard, "You know, the Normandy is an Alliance vessel by historical right, and we could reinstate your commission. It was retired after your…departure, but the Alliance will need every able man and woman for this fight and you're the best we have, Shepard."
The offer was unexpected, and it caused Jared to blink as he thought through the ramifications. "Do you think the Alliance would accept me as a Specter, as an ex-mercenary, and as a dead man walking?"
Laughing at the last remark, Hackett responded, "The last one might help you overcome the other two. Humans aren't sure about their place in this world yet. We took it pretty hard fighting Sovereign, and there's a lot of people who want to see us leave the aliens to their own."
He thought about it before saying, "I don't think they want the Specter, but they want the man who stands up for humanity. Maybe the Cerberus thing will help, though the Alliance won't like it."
Taking a long swill, Hackett continued, "Jared, I don't know. These questions are above my pay grade, thank God." He set down his drink and doffed his hat. "What I do know is you're doing a hell of a job out there, and we could use you here. Don't let the stuffed shirts convince you otherwise."
Rising in response to his former superior officer, Shepard straightened his own uniform as he extended his hand, "Admiral. You've given me a lot to think about and I will talk to my crew and get down to Earth as soon as possible."
Hackett nodded and walked straight out the door. Never flinching, never apologizing, the lifelong military man went out the door and returned to his ship.
Jared remained in the medical bay, peering over Dr. Chakwas' desk. He hoped he wouldn't be too upset that the admiral had dipped into her private stock of brandy. Truth is, many of the crew were a little more quiet these days after having survived their ordeal. Shepard could only imagine what they experienced beyond the Omega-4 Relay, but he found he didn't really want to know. The crew still did their jobs, but some were not the same as they once were.
Their loyalty was absolute, as their Commander had braved hell itself to secure their release. Another day at the office for the Commander, Jared mused. But at what point would something become lost, some spark that separated combatants in a never-ending struggle from people who were simply living. The thought was a luxury that couldn't be considered now, but one that remained niggling at the back of Shepard's mind.
Shepard thought long and hard about the offer Hackett made to return the Normandy to the Alliance. Truth be told, he always felt more comfortable working as an officer within certain rules, but recognized his assembled team might not feel the same. He owed it to them to hear their opinions, but he also knew that his time with Cerberus was at an end. Even the feckless politicians of the Council looked like saints compared to some of the stunts pulled by the Illusive Man.
Reaching over to the interface, Shepard activated EDI, the ship's computer virtual intelligence that now had become one with Normandy. Between having his ship run by a computer, and having Joker think that was a great idea, Shepard didn't know what to make of that, but he would figure it out later.
"EDI, can you ask the members of the team to assemble in fifteen minutes in the communications room. I need to speak with them about what we do next."
The monotone female voice replied, "Yes, Commander. Will there be anything else?"
"Not now, EDI. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Commander. Logging you out, Shepard."
Shepard knew his crew would follow him wherever he led. The only problem was for as good as he was in a fight, he didn't know where to go from here.