(The Present)
Harbinger's retaliation had been swift, and now…her world was fire.
'YOU BELIEVE YOURSELF 'SPECIAL''
While the machine's voice boomed in her ears, pain seeped into every atom and threatened to steal her mind from the loose sanity it still held.
'WORTHY TO STAND AGAINST US'
All along her naked torso, her muscles started to wither and her thin flesh pulled tighter across her pronounced bones.
'A WITCH WIELDING MAGIC'
She held nothing back, everything went into her defenses…all to buy more time for the man she loved.
'OUR EQUAL'
But…the pain.
'YOU ARE WRONG'
Blisters rose along her upraised arm, as the two remaining Reapers threw their entire might against her biotic barrier. Jack knew there would be no rally this time, no stand against the machines. Her power was fading fast, and all she could do was hold on a little longer.
She dared a glance behind her, where 'Shepard', safe inside her bubble, jerked awkwardly, as if he were moving while standing still.
As the pain wracked her body and her biotics drained her very essence for power, Jack's eyes cradled 'Shepard' and dreamed of an existence that would never be.
For the last time in her life, her chin trembled and Jack wept freely; her stolen future, a lost treasure, infinitely more painful than the blasts beating her body and infinitely more precious than the blood running from her nose, eyes and ears. After a life spent shackled, abused and praying for death, the only thing she desired now…was to live.
Jack wanted more minutes, more months; she wanted a forever with Shepard, a forever full of all the things absent from her early years. Joy, loyalty, quiet spans alone with him; in short, she craved happy memories.
Greed joined her pain and rage.
She wanted millions of new moments, enough to force the evil remembrances from her mind; enough so that in the years to come, none of the bad would remain and all her recollections would be housed and formed from happiness and hope.
'I don't…I want…more…time,' she whispered around her grief.
'Jack,' Shepard spoke in her ear and returned her cry of despair with an acknowledgment of his own. 'So do I…with all my heart, so do I.'
'Don't…want…to leave…you,' she whispered.
'Then don't, Jack,' Shepard's voice trembled. 'Hang on…wait for me.'
Suddenly spasms gripped Jack's throat and she vomited a great gush of blood. Completely absent her control, her blasted body collapsed to the ground…yet even while lying on her back, her right arm remained raised, warding off the Reaper's power.
'Jack!', Shepard screamed.
Tears ran down her face, gathered around the comm transmitter in her ear and dropped to the glassy ground.
'Thanks…Shepard…for a…life…worth living.'
Jack's shell shattered…her barrier fell.
But death did not follow.
Silence hung in the Isle's air; the Reapers weapons dark and quiet.
'SHEPARD, YOUR WITCH IS BEATEN'
Slowly Jack's mind stepped away from the abyss, and with each passing second not spent fueling her biotics, her strength creeped back.
'YOUR ASCENSION IS AT HAND'
'They…want…you…alive,' Jack whispered.
Shepard's voice crackled in her ear,
'No, they want us both. You've impressed them. They want to study you. He thinks you're beaten, Jack. Keep him talking, use the seconds he gives you, and make him pay for them…make…him…pay. We're almost there.'
Somehow, whether with the invisible support of Shepard, the ghost of a mother long-gone, or even the will of a cheerleader recently lost, Jack pulled herself up…and stood. An amalgamation of injury, famine and mortis, she seemed little more than an animated corpse, but with eyes still bright, she faced Harbinger, and she challenged a 'god'.
'You can't…figure it out, can you?', Jack's clenched jaw distorted the statement but not enough so that it failed to reach the titanic machine's comprehension.
'NOTHING IS BEYOND OUR UNDERSTANDING'
It's penchant for bombast doused, at least temporarily, she continued.
'You don't have…a formula…or a working theory… for Destiny, do you? There isn't a corner…in that 'vast' and 'awesome' memory…that takes into account Fate.'
'NEITHER IS THERE ROOM DEVOTED TO THE FALACY OF HOPE, WHICH, AS YOU CAN NOW ATTEST, IS AS ETHEREAL AND ILLOGICAL AS DESTINY'
'For all your…grandstanding…you're still…just a fucking machine…you need everything to be about the numbers. Alright, so tell me this…what are the odds?'
Harbinger's silence made her nod because Jack had correctly assumed that the machine was too 'proud' to ask any question of a lesser being.
So she answered it anyway.
'The odds…of what, you say?'
She had Harbinger's attention, and every second she did bought Shepard more time.
Jack smiled and a tear rolled down her cheek, slipped down her split lip and for a moment swiped a path of white along her bloodied teeth.
'The odds…of the only two creatures in the universe capable of stopping you…finding each other.'
'YOUR DELUSION IS AT PLAY, WITCH, NOT DESTINY'
Never taking her eyes from Harbinger, she continued; her words firmer as her strength returned,
'I know you can't help yourself from…'running the numbers' even if you think them pointless…you're just a fucking machine…you can't shut off a 'problem'…can you?'
Jack knew she was right; knew that Harbinger couldn't change what it was. If it heard a problem, one based in the mathematics of probability, it couldn't help itself. It would answer.
And in that answer…Harbinger might finally understand.
'What are the odds that the two beings uniquely equipped to champion organics join together? A million-to-one?'
She spit a mouthful of blood to the ground.
'What are the odds that these two organisms are born and age to their primes, just in time for your reaping? A billion-to-one?
Jack's hands clenched into fists and released, as her muscles slowly came back online.
'What are the odds that these two creatures travel in completely unrelated sectors of the universe yet are drawn together, battle their way through the armies and tests you've designed, reached the very 'off switch' that you have fought millennia to protect, and in so doing come farther than any other cycle? A trillion-to-one?'
She stumbled a bit as the numbness receded and the fantastic pain return to her legs.
'What are the odds that these two fall in love and willingly sacrifice that love to stop you!'
'TELL ME, FUCKER! What…are…the…odds?'
Jack shook in pain and dying rage,
'All of your might, all of your planning, all of your knowledge, all of your 'facts', everything you think you know…'
'You…are…wrong,' Jack's lips rose in a smile around her bloody teeth.
'AND YET YOU AND SHEPARD WILL GO NO FURTHER'
Jack started to laugh.
'YOUR ASCENSION IS AT HAND'
From the transmitter in her ear, Shepard spoke,
'We're here. Meet you at the Normandy.'
Jack's mocking laughter ceased its assault of Harbinger, and in its place, her words attacked the Reaper,
'You called me a witch. I'm not…I'm a magician. Do you know the difference?'
Again the ancient machine's silence made her happy despite the agony gripping her,
'A magician has no real power. Their 'magic' comes not from some malleable, mystic force but from their ability to distract their audience. With flourish and fancy, or in this case, talking to a pompous, fucking-blowhard-robot while it tries to kill you…the magician draws the audience's attention away from where the trick is being performed.'
Stepping back to the 'Shepard' behind her, Jack used her free hand…and punched her fist through 'his' chest.
The Salarian's Decoy wobbled a bit but the perfect hologram quickly reformed, leaving a very, very convincing 'Shepard' behind.
If the situation hadn't been so dire, Jack would've started laughing again, as Harbinger's massive 'head' rocked back in a comic expression of 'shock'.
Directly beside the beam, Shepard materialized, as he switched off Kasumi's tactical cloak, and with one last look back across the battlefield at Jack, the universe's last chance dove into the beam.
Harbinger's 'eye' moved from the beam and seemed to 'look' back at Jack with a mixture of hatred…and respect.
With one last smile, the witch bowed,
'What are the odds? Abracadabra, mother fucker.'