MSV Iridium Pride-One hour from Earth

Abigail Shepard was dressed in a trench coat, gray sweat shirt, and blue jeans, sat on her bench in the rented room on the Ore Freighter. The jeans were a bit tight, and her butt hurt from the constant time on the bench since getting off her last shift.

There was a lot to do on a mining freighter on the way home, ore to process, systems to check, but at least they weren't actually involved in the mining the stuff out of the asteroid.

In hindsight it was fortunate that Miranda could even find them a station and a ship which was hiring, one who could take them all the way to Earth.

Abigail was fiddling with her Omni-tool again trying to read reports from Earth, to get some read on the media situation, now that they were getting closer to Earth and she could tap into the network. And in short they don't look good.

The media made almost no reference to Soren, other than how wonderful he was. Instead they focused in on which celebrity was marrying who an how the world was embarking upon a new age of peace and prosperity now that they finally dealt with the usurper Daniel Hudson, as well as one rather curious story about how she was a psychological cripple who was broken on Tofan leading her to Sociopathic tendencies.

Probably at least somewhat true, Abigail murmured, but not in the way that they think.

A boot step behind her caused her to wince, and freeze, ever since she had gotten on board she was trying to maintain a clear distance from anyone on the ship. In case any of them went, hey you look like Commander Shepard! And alerted the authorities, or tried to buy her a drink and ask for an autograph, which would then draw attention of other people on the ship, who could then alert the authorities.

"Hey Lola." James's voice whispered.

Abigail closed her eyes and said a silent prayer.

"James," She turned to him straddling over the bench to look at him smirking, "just got off your shift?"

"Yeah," the man grunted, "one on the processing deck, fun." He murmured. "And just going over how we are going to get out of this, and what we are going to find on Earth when we get there."

"I know," Abby frowned, "it's kind of nerve wracking actually, just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the ship to get there, and the doors to open on our home. Will things look peaceful? Will there be white picket fences in some kind of creepy utopia? Or will it be dark and foreboding, in a state of moral and physical decay? And how effective is this resistance? Maybe this is just one nut job who says he is part of a resistance but is really just one nut job with delusions of grandeur."

"And what about our families? What about the environment down there? Will people, in a resistance or not, know what is going on?"

Abigail snorted and waved her Omni-tool around in front of his face, "not according to the media, it's almost like a perverted version of when Sally met Harry or what not, just with live presentations."

James snorted, the fringes of his own coat rippling, "Makes you wonder what Allers and Al-Jalani are doing."

Abigail winced, "you mean that reporter who wanted to board the Normandy? Didn't she die?"

"I wouldn't know." James muttered.

Abigail looked out her door musing for a second, leaning back in her chair and biting her lip. "This has to happen though, if we are going to get a leg up on this we need to know. There is no other way around it. Maybe we can figure out something we can use to help Keith and Michael in their research."

"Right," James remarked dubiously, "and how does that one feel, working with those guys?"

Abigail bit her lip, "It brings up a lot of bad memories. Still not sure it's a good idea. But I would rather have both of them where I can keep them then where they were. Soren could use them in any number of ways and we already know they are both susceptible to Reaper indoctrination, and they are geniuses."

"Right, so just hope everything works out?" James asked.

"Yeah, pretty much," Abby nodded, "Come on we'll be landing soon we'll need to get ready for our descent."

"Right," James walked off, and she heard him mutter, "It's been a while."

Abigail smirked and wondered what he meant by the comment but decided to let it slide.

The transport rocketed into Earth atmosphere the mass effect field generators desperately tried to keep it from plowing through Earth's gravity well without losing control. The ship was certainly not as advanced and new like the Normandy and the pilot obviously didn't have Joker's skill set as the ship pitched hard to port and starboard as they rocked through the ride.

But almost as quickly as it started, it ended, as the thrusters leveled out and they cleared the upper atmosphere and sped down into its proper docking pattern along the planet's surface.

Abby peered out at the racing city below them, dark fogs of smoke billowed out and around it, the sky was a sharp gray. Even the buildings looked sooty.

"Whoa." Paul remarked.

"Looks like during the war." James agreed.

Abigail agreed with them both, the dust, the pollution caking the air, making it hard for them to see. But instead of mass war, this indicated massive construction to her, the smoke of a million industrial fires all raging at the same time.

They landed quickly and the three of them passed through customs without incident, leaving them free to wander around Earth and look for this bar they were supposed to go to.

Shepard led the way watching the streets carefully, a couple was trying to sneak around on a side walk, the man was pressing the girl up against the wall and was necking her fiercely.

A little way away another couple was making out out in the middle of the street.

"What the hell?" James remarked.

"Come on, let's go." Abigail muttered.

They found a taxi, one who would take them the twenty five or so Kilometers to their final destination, an easy couple of minutes. Abigail paid their fare and off they went. The environment rushed by too quickly for them to go get a good look at it.

The taxi parked them at a terminal just on the opposite side of the street from the bar, being surrounded by buildings cutting it off. Abigail nodded her thanks to the cab driver before heading the rest of the way, her Omni-tool pinging directions.

Going through a bridge and then a stairwell brought them to the bottom of the street floor, James and Paul tailing in her wake, not saying a word, not wanting to with the soot caking the air. The sound of their breathing was the only way Abby was sure they were back there. But slowly they made their way to the other side, crossing the street, when a commotion caught their attention.

"You don't have any right to come in here and search my property."

Finishing crossing the street Abigail, James, and Paul all swiveled around to see what was going on. A group of three Alliance guards and one officer was standing in front of an older looking man with gray hair and wearing a white vest.

"Sir, according to new regulations I have to search your property. Reports say you purchased an older model Avenger Assault Rifle."

"It's a war memento," the man dismissed, "I fought in the war, served in the Earth resistance, fought with Anderson at London."

"So you admit to having a now illegal weapon in your possession?" The officer asked with slight surprise.

"Yes, of course, I have nothing to hide. But you can't have it. Whatever the law is currently I bought it legally with a legally valid permit and the Alliance charter specifically protects me from retroactive laws."

"Haven't you heard about all the attacks? They massacred a-"

"I was not involved; I am an upstanding citizen who has committed no crime other than buying a weapon which I did not know would be illegal for me to own in a few months' time."

"Sir, we are legally bound to search your property, if you do not move we'll be forced to-"

"You'll what? Shoot me? Ha, explain that one on the nightly news." The man folded his arms over his chest smugly.

But as soon as the view completed one of the guards snapped up his Avenger and fired into the man's chest knocking him down. The guard launched into the hole, with his compatriots following him.

At her side James growled and Abby had to launch herself at him, holding him back, "that is not our mission." She gave him a restraining look.

The man humphed and backed off, shaking his arms, and his heads as the sound of more Avenger blasts followed by a female scream punctured the still air.

"Come on," Abby muttered, "we're close to the bar."

The crowd which had gathered glanced at the source of the commotion, but quickly dispersed, some of them even shrugging their shoulders as they went along their daily lives, Shepard and company threading the needle between them.

They entered the bar which was dark and musky, even in comparison to the outside street. There was a slight film of smoke permeating the air, as if no one had any regard for their own personal health and well-being. It also made it hard to see. Both a benefit and a curse given we are supposed to be here to meet someone, but they can't see us and identify us either.

She led the way skimming over by the bar running a finger along the wooden divider, the man behind it glanced back at her while cleaning a glass with a dirty rag. Abby shivered. And then was bumped into by someone nearly wrenching her around.

"Oh, excuse me Commander." The man said.

Abby felt her hairs stand up on her neck as she swiveled around seeing a man wearing a similar trench coat to herself walking away rapidly, but there was something about him that screamed that's the one. She had no idea what the message was about but it was typical. He intentionally bumped into her, got close enough to her to whisper to her, called her Commander which wasn't her rank but what she was most famously known as, but not Commander Shepard. Just in case anyone was overhearing the conversation they wouldn't hear the Shepard and then connect the dots. She hoped she wasn't jumping to a wild conclusion but the man gave her just enough information where she would know he was there for her specifically, but yet to anyone else she would just look like some Alliance Officer which was just bashed into by a drunken patron.

"Come on," She finally whispered to James and Paul. She reached into her coat and clutched her Suppressor just in case.

They followed him to a corner booth, out of the way, yet close to the entrance.

Abigail sat down cautiously, Paul remained standing guarding them and blocking them from view, James leaned over on the table but didn't quite sit down.

The Special Forces Captain made a clearing noise in her throat after a few seconds, wondering if this was a mistake.

"Commander," The man repeated, and smiled, "Or should I say Captain, congratulations on the promotion by the way."

"Thanks," Abby deadpanned, "I take it you are our contact?"

"The one and only," the man grunted coming into the light.

He was a black, older gentleman who had a thick beard but no discernible hair on his head. But the lighting was really messing with her perceptions of the general environment.

"And, you are?" Abby arched an eyebrow at him.

"Jason that is all you need to know, Abigail Shepard."

And that was to make sure I knew that he knows I am who I say I am. She smiled wanly, "I generally only let my friends call me by my first name, to everyone else its Captain Shepard."

"My apologies Captain."

"So," James cut in leaning further before they could do any more conversation, "What is the news? It's hard for us to hear anything out on the perimeter."

"And you think it is easy for us?!" Jason's voice rose dangerously, he cast a furtive glance around the bar making sure they weren't overhead.

Satisfied, he sighed. "It's hard enough coordinating when the Government is gaining a greater foothold on our electronic communications and anything that is not on a Government channel. Sure we can get the occasional message out, but anyone who has been reporting the truth has been shut down."

James nodded gravely and winced, "Well come on, you must know…something." James waved out towards the door. "Like what is going on with all the soot and bleakness out there."

"Heavy construction," The man shrugged, "mainly forced construction of the Old Cities, around the globe trying to rush the order on getting Earth back in shape from the Reaper War. We also believe they are building a fleet."

"A fleet?" Abigail asked.

He shrugged again, "Your guess is as good as mine. Though with what Soren is doing it can't be good for the rest of the Galaxy."

"Agreed," Shepard murmured.

He leaned back in his chair and their drinks had arrived, she took it and sipped it, the brew seared her throat for one bite, and she wiped her chin making an 'ah' noise.

"And, well there have been disturbing reports on what the Alliance is doing with celebrities and other attractive girls…" Jason finally said when the waiter was far enough away.

"Oh, well that sounds…ominous." James mused sounding uncertain.

Jason sighed, coming forward, "Well, there are rumors that they have been taking people into sphere rooms. Females mostly though a few males. In that close proximity to the Leviathan's sphere's they are easily taken control of, at least their minds, and their bodies."

"Wait," Shepard held up a stopping hand, "you know about the Leviathans?"

Jason scowled, "we do follow the news, and read up on extranet sites. Besides one of our crew is a former Alliance Spec Ops analyst, was just honorably discharged, she has kept us apprised of all your more interesting escapades."

"So what happens to these women once they go into these sphere rooms?" James asked getting them on topic.

"They are…changed. Some of them come out and start spewing propaganda that is pro Soren." The man smiled "Of course it's hard to pick them out from the so called 'useful idiots' we run into our here on a daily basis. But the rest? Rumor has it they are sold for sex. Other people are led into these rooms so called 'fans' of these people. There, they have sex with their favorite celebrities."

Abby sneered.

James grunted, "That's disgusting! Who would do such a thing?"

Jason shrugged and his eyes narrowed, "Apparently a lot of people. There is a low level indoctrination field, or energy field that permeates the entire planet. Makes it hard to think, hard to concentrate, depending on who you are. And it even seems to lower inhibitions. Who wouldn't give a chance to have a 'date' with their favorite starlet given the circumstances?"

Abby and James simultaneously shivered.

"But, what is the big deal, what did you want us for?" Abby got them back to business.

Jason hesitated casting a glance around the bar. "We believe they are building a weapon here, a Super Dreadnaught, whether or not the Chicago Facility is the whole thing, or a piece, we do not know. All we know is it's supposed to be more powerful and deadlier then the Destiny Ascension or that one Dreadnaught you fragged over Rannoch. It's supposed to be the new flagship for this fleet."

"And you want us to blow it up?" Paul asked.

"We have neither the training nor the discipline to take on such a target with major Alliance defenses. Besides we could always use the greater man power, our gang isn't quite large enough to risk it. We need the expertise."

Abby nodded slowly and jerked her head up, "Alright, we'll do it. Now where is this place?"

"It's underground, a complete factory they just finished production on. The plan is to go in, confirm this place is a threat, plant the bomb, and then get out hopefully with limited casualties on both sides."

"How many are in your gang?" Paul asked.

"Twelve." Jason clarified.

"Fifteen." Abigail smiled.

"You're in?"

Abby hesitated for a split second, "we still need to see your intelligence and we need weapons."

Jason nodded, "well then, let's go do this, follow me."

…

After the intelligence briefing, which was not much, Abigail Shepard, James Vega, and Paul Leighy stood outside towards the courtyard of where the 'Earth Resistance' had made their base. Right now they were made up of twelve fighters and three support staff, but Jason assured them there were other cells throughout the planet and they had limited communication.

But they were standing outside the rented apartment looking down at a garbage dump.

"We 'procured' these from an Alliance retirement shipment, they were going to guard compounds throughout the Alliance and not used by the official military. We didn't think they would be missed." Jason's weapon's expert explained rolling up a tarp.

Abby whistled. In the box was at least fifteen Vindicator Assault Rifles, placed in even rows down the center of the garbage, looking dirty and worn, but she knew they would still function.

"Damn, Vindicator's, haven't used these things in a long time." She pocketed one up hefting it into her shoulder and closely examining the thing. "Vindicator sevens?" She asked swiveling her head over to the expert.

He shrugged his shoulders, "the best we could do at the time, I figured you wouldn't complain."

"Oh no, this is…fine." Abigail assured, "some weapons are better than nothing."

"Right, I take it you are ready then?" The man asked.

"Well," Abby mused, "we need thermal clips, and to synch our Omni-tools so we can have a real time map of the area as we go, and our positions in relation to one another. Standard Special Forces fare."

"That's why you're the boss." The man shrugged.

"Right," Abigail said skeptically, "lead on."

"This way."

…

"When people have an excuse to behave badly they will use it. Without standards, people will react any way they want. Thus the creation of freedom and liberty is just a back door for more control. If society is not careful entertainment, sex, drugs, and debauchery, can become a distraction. One that the people who want to control our lives can use for their own ends. This is the balance, be free, but be vigilant and responsible for your lives."

AN: Well, this is it.

I was not sure if I should write this chapter the way I did. I wanted to do it but I was hesitant about the subject matter. The idea of it sounds a bit farfetched, who would do such a thing in a massive scale, would the audience like it?

I was hesitant because I am conservative about certain things, and well these fics and my account matter to me. I don't want to put them in jeopardy, by writing to mature subject matter for a rating.

And because of the ludicrous nature of the plot. Would this make sense? Would it really happen? I was uncertain.

But then this week happened, what happened in Cleveland Ohio happened. The despicable case of the kidnapping of the three girls. The tale of their sexual abuse. And still, other cases around the world, here in the United States, and in other parts of the world. So this is not so farfetched, evil will play if we do not know how to deal with it. Which I suppose is the point of why I am writing this and my writing in general.