Life.

Lying on a cold, hard, stone and metal construct.

A scrolling feed of numbers and readings around the edges of vision.

A HUD.

'C-c-c-c-creat-t-t-t-or Zor-r-r-rah?'

Tali's senses hit her with an almost physical force.

I'm alive?

She had seen the beam coming towards her... and truly thought it was over. There had been, for the briefest period, a moment of peace. Acceptance, of her new home, of the hand fate had dealt her.

She was dying in defence of her ship, her crew, her name.

As far as deaths went, it was a good one.

But death, it seemed, had other plans.

She pushed herself up to her knees, and looked around.

She was the only living being she could see.

The Normandy's crew were dead, she realised with a falling sensation. Human bodies, torn apart by vicious weapons fire, lay interspaced with the corpses of a far greater number of Collectors.

Did they kill them all...?

There were no more of the bugs near, and the Normandy itself was still sealed.

She stood, shakily.

The Praetorian which was to be the agent of her death was crashed into the ground, and with a wince she noticed the red smear underneath it, and the smallest hint of black armour.

Jacob...

A Cerberus bosh'tet, to be sure, but he was always polite, and respectful... he did nothing to deserve her ire. His crazy move, jumping onto that Praetorian, was like something Shepard would have done.

But she would have walked from the wreckage, ratcheting her shotgun, acting like the action was no more trouble than fastening on a helmet.

Jacob was not so lucky.

But... how am I...

She looked to the ground by her side.

'Oh... Keelah... Legion!'

The geth was shorn in two, legs and most of its... his... can I give him that dignity now? … torso twitching in a pile of the viscous goop that pumped through their body, while his head, shoulders and arms, and not much else, lay just apart.

He had managed to prop himself up, but Tali knew there was no saving the machine. The main power generators had been ruptured... it was a small miracle Legion had not actually detonated.

It was just a matter of time.

'Aud-d-dio-o-o proc-c-cesssssoeeerrrs dammmaged-d-d-d... r-r-r-repairr-r-ring with baaaeeeeccckkkup power-r-r.'

'No, save your-'

'Creator Zorah, audio processors have been diagnosed and repaired.'

Why... why would you do such a stupid thing?

'Oh Legion... why?'

'Please specify.' its... his!... voice had that same odd inflection to it. Previously it had just enraged her, an artificial imitation of emotion, but now...

What am I doing?

'Why did you save me?'

'We judged your value to Normandy collective greater than our own.'

'Th... that's it?'

'Yes. Despite our peaceful intentions and open interactions, crew members showed greater preference in talking to and trusting you. We deemed your survival important enough to sacrifice our functionality.'

Don't do this, don't make this harder!

'B... but what about the geth?'

'Our mission was to integrate into and improve the Normandy's collective.'

'Did you not plan on returning... to the rest of your... people?' The final word had to be almost forced out, breaking the habits and mindsets that took a lifetime to build.

'A favourable outcome, but a secondary objective.'

Just... just like most of us... help Shepard first, our own lives second...

'Why did you repair your speakers? You can't have much power left, we could find a data drive for you, or...'

'We have... a suggested... course of action which needs clarity of communication.' Uncertainty. Such an... organic... concept, coming from this... machine.

No, this person, who just sacrificed himself... for me.

'W...what is it, Legion? What's your idea?'

'There may be a way for us to sustain processes outside of this platform.'

'Of course! I'll go and get a drive, or...' She started towards the Normandy, when the distinctive synthetic voice called to her.

'Creator Zorah, we wish integration with you.'

'W... what!?' She did not turn back, but froze, mid-step.

No, surely he can't mean...

'If you integrate some of the technology present within this damaged platform, your suit will have sufficient processing power to host our programs when the operation of a mobile platform is not required.'

This must be a joke...

'Legion, I'm sure I can put together-' She started back.

This can't be happening!

'We do not wish life without organic interaction. If you do not desire to accept our offer, we will await expiration.'

'I-' scenarios ran through her mind... they could store Legion in a drive temporarily... but the possibility of finding a platform remotely capable of running him - he was uniquely powerful, hardware-wise amongst the geth - was next to impossible... unless they returned him to the geth themselves, where he would be absorbed into their collective...

But... the mere thought of allowing the geth to live inside her suit was almost vomit inducing. At any second, Legion could suffocate her, could override any of her systems, could infiltrate her omni-tool and upload onto whatever other terminals were nearby...

Keelah... but he saved me...

'I...'

AIs can't be trusted! They'll turn on us at any chance they get...

Her thoughts span out of control.

Legion had never done anything to her.

In reality, most of the geth, she was coming to realise, had done nothing to her. The heretics were the ones she had fought with Shepard; geth allied with the Reapers: practically indoctrinated.

Her own people, on the other hand...

Cast out. Exiled. Humiliated.

Declared a traitor, for a crime she did not commit, because her "leaders" were too busy arguing amongst themselves to notice their squabbles had lost them their one truly respected voice amongst the galactic community.

She shook her head and turned back, approaching the ruined machine. She would not let Legion's sacrifice go unnoticed. If nobody else was willing to take the first step... she would. 'Do it.'

Her omni-tool instantly lit up, with a request for access. Taking a deep breath, she allowed it.

Her HUD briefly flashed, before returning to normal. Legion's body slumped to the floor.

What...

'Erm... Legion?'

Text flashed across her vision.

Creator Zorah, due to reduced processing power we are currently running at minimal capacity. We disabled destruction and security protocols in our mobile platform before transferring; our primary processor will integrate into your suit with minimal compatibility issues. We will temporarily operate with reduced simultaneous threading. Throttling calculation transactions will reduce power requirements while preserving basic function sufficient for communication.

Still shaking her head, she began to disassemble the now eerily lifeless body, and removed its computer from the upper chest; a smooth, fist sized orb still wireless as when her people designed them so long ago, and dropped it into a protective pocket on her suit. A few seconds of deft hacking had her accessing its immense power, before her HUD flashed again.

[Creator Zorah. We are integrated. Power draw minimised. Warning: draw still exceeds normal suit parameters. Increased power supplies recommended.]

His voice played quietly through her internal speakers, the same distorted voice that came from his now deserted platform. Of all the things she could have thought... one stupid question came to mind.

'Why do you sound the same?'

[We judged you would be more comfortable with this familiar audio profile. if you desire, we can replicate one of millions of recorded voice samples.]

'For example, we could imitate Shepard-Commander.' Shepard's voice suddenly rang through her suit, making her jump.

'Keelah, don't do that... your old voice is fine.'

[Very well.] Back to normal... this will take some getting used to.

[We also have ideas for further improvements and modulations to your suit, but we believe our primary course of action should be to investigate the status of the Normandy.]

She straightened, slightly ashamed at her distraction from her ship, at the words.

'O... of course.'

Every step towards the Normandy felt strange, as though her suit was somehow heavier, an absolutely ridiculous thought, but it did not go away. When she reached the Normandy, she called out. 'EDI, can you let us in?'

Specialist Zorah, entry to the Normandy is currently impossible. Access will be granted in thirty seconds.

'What do you mean? Why can't I come in?'

As if one AI messing with me was not enough...

I am currently cleansing the ship of Collectors. Please hold.

'C...Collectors?'

[While you were temporarily stunned the Collectors overwhelmed the remaining defenders. They were about to turn on you when EDI's hangar bay opened. Seventeen Collectors boarded the Normandy.]

Legion is correct,

Tali realised Legion's voice had been playing through external vox as well as her internal speakers. The AIs, talking to each other...

Keelah, Legion called the Normandy "EDI"... is that how he sees her?

She shook her head. EDI was still "it". One personification of an AI was enough for today.

In order to minimise further casualties I initiated a trap. I lured the Collectors on board and destroyed them. The ship is now available for access.

The hangar bay door opened, and Tali gasped as a hiss sounded... air was being sucked into the ship.

Inside was a nightmare. The walls and floor were splattered with yellow, viscous fluid, and chunks of Collectors, the horrific trail leading all the way to the back of the bay, and she could see the stairs were similarly stained.

Collectors were inhabiting sixty percent of ship common areas and corridors before I was able to seal the ship and vent atmosphere. Results were... messy.

'Keelah...'

Most of the galaxy, Tali considered, thought the terror of AIs lay in an army of machines.

An understandable attitude, considering the geth.

But this was why people should be afraid of them. First Legion, able to kill her at any moment, and now EDI had just killed everything on the ship-

No!

'EDI, what about Joker and the rest of the crew?' she began to panic. There had already been so many lost here, to be left alone with just these two AIs, when the Collectors could return at any moment was unbearable.

Doctor Chakwas, Engineers Daniels and Donnelly, Crewmembers Chambers and Hawthorne, and Jeff were all in sealed rooms. They are safe.

'Oh... thank you, EDI... can I see them?'

She saved them...

It...

No. She.

She saved them.

Of course. Please proceed to either engineering or the med bay.

'Thank-'

Warning: the floor may be slippery.

Gross...


Shepard?

EDI's voice snapped Faith from her thoughts. She instantly straightened, ashamed that her feelings about having to execute Jack had overtaken her responsibilities to her surviving crew.

'What is it, EDI?'

The rest of the ground team were resting, patching up... avoiding looking at the corpse which had, mercifully, now stopped smoking.

Reporting: we were attacked. Eighty percent of the crew, most notably Operative Taylor, are deceased. Legion is currently physically incapacitated but... alive. The Normandy is undamaged and will be operational within thirty standard minutes given no further interruption.

'Shit... thanks, EDI.'

Jacob...

She thought back to the man... a great soldier just like Ashley...

A little too flirty for her preferences, but good hearted...

Not now.

Her worries turned to anger.

Unacceptable.

She had a mission. Mourning the dead, remembering them, could wait.

She was not the Alliance's most feared soldier, humanity's first Spectre, the reason Cerberus spent enough money to float a small planet's economy, because she got distracted on a mission.

She looked around at the crew, clearly depressed, demoralised by the news.

Thane, head bowed in prayer, standing a respectful distance from Jack's body.

Samara, still nursing her wounded leg, now sitting with it stretched in front of her. Mordin, slightly charred, but still seemingly chipper, helping with the bandages.

Miranda, hovering near Jack's corpse, as though she could not decide if she wanted to approach or flee it.

Grunt was agitated, bashing his fists together, puncturing the silence with heavy thumps.

Kasumi was openly distressed, head in her hands, squatting on the floor.

Garrus was leaning against a wall, muttering to himself, shaking his head.

Unacceptable!

'That's enough, on your feet!' she called, voice like a whip.

She was pleased as they instantly snapped to attention, standing up, straightening their backs.

They were still in the game.

'We will not let these monsters beat us because they know how to kill our defenceless crew members. We will not let these monsters beat us because they killed one of our own fighters.'

A loud growling broke through; Grunt, always ready for battle. Thane and Samara seemed as calm as ever, though their eyes were flashing. The others were scowling, ready for action.

'We will not-' She strode over to Jack's body, and gestured at it. 'Let her death be in vain because we were too weak to finish this.

'This mission long since ceased being a purely professional one. We're all invested, we've all fought and bled for each other. Now it's time to repay the debt; to Jack, to Jacob, to everybody these monsters have snatched from their lives.'

She strode over to the platform that led to whatever was causing the enormous energy signature.

Need a varied squad for the next...

'I'm taking Miranda,' Diverse skill set... 'Mordin,' scientific know-how useful for whatever we find, 'and Grunt' No explanation needed, 'with me, to plant enough explosives to blow this place three times over.'

Pre-empting the next question, she continued. 'Everybody else will form a rearguard, under Garrus' command. EDI, as soon as the Normandy's ready to fly, get it closer to our position for an easier extraction, and send us updated maps.'

Understood.

She walked over to her old friend, the one who had been with her from the start, and touched his elbow softly, speaking quickly and quietly, but not hiding her words from the others. 'Garrus, they're going to break through eventually. I'll keep in touch for as long as possible, and I want us to get out of this together. But, I trust you to use your judgement to know when to get your team out of here. Understood?'

The turian caught her gaze, and nodded.

She could see from the corner of her eye that her chosen team members were nodding as well.

The words were unsaid, but understood. Shepard and her team might not make it back.

But she would not let that happen.

I love you, Liara.

She had a promise, made only to herself, but more important than any other she had ever made, to keep.


It is all ready. The data Faith provided for me was very well structured, allowing me to integrate the relevant pieces into my data packet.

The information on the Reapers; my own, the previous Shadow Broker's, everything I could find on the extranet, filtered down to what I believe true and important, and packeted into a program that anybody could easily access, explore, save and replicate.

But I will not yet publish this. I have a list of high profile journalists, scientific bodies, politicians and military leaders ready... and a thoroughly terrifying tool I discovered the Broker... I... possess.

A means to send a message to everybody in the galaxy.

Every smallest mail account, every instant messaging system, every forum, everything.

To use it... the mere thought fills me with dread. When I... when we... send this out, the blowback will be enormous. Governments will be shaken... and take retaliatory measures against us. The Council will most likely set at least one Spectre, the STG will be tasked with damage reduction, and much, much more.

But it needs to be done. This data is something the galaxy needs to see.

I will not let my future with Faith be compromised by politicians' failure to act.

A selfish thought, perhaps...

I look towards the small window representing the status of my requisition order, now sitting alongside my Omega agent's live feed, and smile.

… but if we do not fight for what is important to us, then there is nothing to fight for at all.


A/N: Thanks to Jay8008 for beta reading.