EARTH
THE CITADEL
SOL SYSTEM
EARLY SEPTEMBER 2188
THE CITADEL, seat of galactic government for countless centuries, had seen much, much better days. The Presidium had been scorched by the firing of the Crucible, many of the Wards wrecked, many hundreds of thousands of Citadel residents killed. The core had stayed intact, however, and that meant the Keepers were intact, and they swarmed over the Citadel in unprecedented numbers. The Presidium gleamed again after a year of Keeper labour, but the Wards would take longer. Even with the hordes of Keepers, the Citadel was still in pieces and a great deal of it empty.
It wasn't exactly a Reconstruction priority.
Miranda Lawson stepped onto the station, and she doubted anyone from her past would recognize her right off. Dressed in a conservative black uniform with silver piping, her only insignia a gleaming gold phoenix over her left breast, three silver bars at her throat - she could have been the CEO of any company from Noveria, or a special attaché to some high-ranking diplomat, but she was neither. Her once-long black hair was cropped short and spiky, her makeup subdued. She stopped in the dock, looked around. The place was surprisingly quiet.
A moment later, she was joined by an asari and a tall ginger-haired, rather grim-faced woman, both in the same uniform.
"Saajila," Miranda directed at her asari companion, whose facial markings resembled jagged claw marks, and who was missing a frond of her headcrest. She had an ocular implant that covered her right eye, making her look as if she were wearing an eyepatch. A scar ran through where her eye would have been, a product of the injury that took her head frond. A veteran of the so-called 'Extreme Front', directly in the line of the Reaper wave on Thessia, Saajila was a deceptively calm woman with a volcanic temper and a razor tongue when provoked. A former 'Death Mistress' commando and a powerful Vanguard-class biotic, she hit as hard as her disposition. She was twitchy and dangerous as hell, but her loyalty to Miranda was unquestioned.
"Commander?" She liked that. Commander Lawson. It evoked certain… associations.
"This place is barely functional. Not that I doubt your abilities, but half the comm buoys in the Sol System are gone and the other half are barely functional. It won't be easy tapping into anything substantial."
"No, ma'am, but they are still routing data through the few embassies still open. The Alliance Fleet Wing should have everything you need. Most of the buried and/or 'classified' databases tend to be routed through military storage. With Earth in shambles, storing them up here makes the most sense." She sniffed. "No offence, but human encryption algorithms are amateurish at the best of times."
"I think Riley would disagree with you," Miranda's other companion, Ellie Crawford, said, scratching her chin, watching the reconstruction personnel go by with narrowed eyes. She was taller than either by a head.
"Riley would disagree regardless." Miranda told her. The tall woman nodded. A coating of freckles dusted her nose, and large grey eyes dominated her face. Ellie wasn't particularly pretty, and it had been something Miranda had wondered about, because with her features, she should have been quite attractive. Miranda had figured, after a while, that it was the simple fact that Ellie never smiled that detracted from her looks. Ellie Crawford was Miranda's heavy weapon expert – and a formidable Sentinel-class biotic.
"Let's find you a decent terminal, then. Never was a big fan of Earth." They headed to the lift, in no particular hurry, easily bypassed C-Sec checks and she and they made their way to the Embassies without hindrance. Crowds were not what they used to be, much thinner, the Presidium spare.
Many Embassies were still dark, most still in the process of being repaired. Some, like the asari, the turian, the human and the new quarian Embassy were finished and functional, clean and open for business, though that business was sparse. Most would likely remained closed for some time yet. Only a few shops were open, and they had very few customers. The Citadel would take a long time to return to its former glory.
Nothing touched by the Reapers was even remotely the same, Miranda mused, a part of her still amazed she had survived what some had called - perhaps overly-optimistically – the Final War. People trying to grasp its scope, the unbelievable devastation, the immense slaughter – the Ultimate War, the Harvest War, the Apocalypse War… she supposed it depended on just to whom you were speaking. The enormity of what had happened had not yet completely sunk in, and she doubted it would ever be grasped in its entirety. The Galaxy was still bleeding, people were still dying in vast numbers, and for a war supposedly won, it yet went on.
Some however, as always, saw war and its aftermath as opportunity, and she admitted to herself that she was one of them, though her motives were a tad more altruistic than most might have believed.
Shepard, she smiled to herself, had been a terrible example. Miranda Lawson had – and she suspected this happened to almost anyone that spent any considerable time around the man – come to see herself as a part of something much larger than her own once-narrow vision, all thanks to him. Shepard never lost his sense of mission, never allowed himself to lose his focus. His instinctual grasp of combat, his ability to move and motivate people, to achieve, had frankly inspired her. His goals, unlike her own past selfish ones, encompassed ideals, despite his reputation for ruthlessness. He discriminated against no one, he never fought a battle in anger – though his motivations may have been tinged with outrage – an honorable enemy given an honorable defeat, a dishonorable one destroyed and forgotten. Efficient, simple, effective.
It was something to which Miranda now aspired, tempering her own considerable talents with new ethics and strategies.
She was not sanctioned by any official agency, her team financed entirely out of her own pocket, and she much preferred being what she considered an 'independent contractor'.
As she considered it a personal rebirth, so Miranda had adopted the Phoenix motif for this new enterprise. Her eight person crew consisted entirely of handpicked biotics, hardened veterans, all female save for their Engineer, a bawdy Asian man with the improbable name of Angus Riley who had a preference for asari cooking and had named his combat drone "Jehoshaphat" – or 'Joe', for short. He was falsely chauvinistic and fiercely protective of his 'girls', although any one of them could have beaten him soundly were they so inclined – granted, if they could before he'd hacked everything electronic they wore.
They had, since their inception, already gained a reputation for efficiency, effectiveness and ruthlessness against their foes.
On the record - they were simply a for-hire 'consulting security' outfit, a part of the much larger Tempest Enterprises, of which Miranda was sole owner and CEO, having acquired the former Lawson Rights Conglomerate from her deceased father - from her 'inheritance' of the vast Lawson family fortune – such had been her father's certainty that he would once again have her in his control, he'd never bothered with altering any of her legal rights to his vast wealth, and she took full advantage. A year of rebranding, restructuring, and she was satisfied it was going as she desired. The Lawson name was not one that had any real respect - it had become, because of the abomination of Sanctuary – a byword for atrocity.
She would change that, she vowed, whatever it took.
Informally, "the Phoenix Crew" was making the rounds far and wide. Their custom-built frigate Phoenix rivaled the Normandy in its sophistication, and she had spared no expense.
Miranda, deep in her heart-of-hearts, secretly loved the idea of using the Lawson wealth profligately. She knew better, but had a hidden hope that somehow, somewhere it hurt him, and hurt him deeply, petty as it sounded.
A rather elaborate network of contacts and bribery channels (as well as legit contributions to charities and veteran organizations) had been easy enough to create, she recruiting many ex-Cerberus operatives anxious to escape the galaxy-wide kill order on their now-defunct organization. Not everyone had been implanted, and they were keen to come out from under its shadow.
The Citadel NewsNet was up and running, the only thing dominating the headlines was the rather contentious issue of the Citadel's disposition – as to whether orbiting Earth would be its new permanent home, or if it would be returned to the Widow Nebula where it had always resided. The arguments were many and convoluted, and she doubted any firm decisions would be made, frankly, for years. At the moment, the Citadel was in no shape to go anywhere, nor had any of those arguments postulated how it could be towed to relay, let alone controlled going through one. The Reapers doing it and a Citadel fleet doing it were two entirely different things. Many argued that moving it was simply a moot point, and that it didn't matter where it was as long as its function remained what it had always been.
Miranda, for her part, couldn't have cared less.
"There should be a diplomatic computer access near the old human embassy, " Miranda noted as they moved across the Presidium toward it. That section was now the brand-new quarian embassy, repurposed as a nod to the quarians for their aid in Sword, and the delivery of the Crucible. A geth embassy was still …iffy. She wondered if it was even necessary.
They stepped in, saw the rows of consoles. The room was empty.
"Will those be sufficient?" She asked Sajila. The asari nodded.
"Parameters, Commander?"
"Anything out of the ordinary or heavily classified. I have no doubt we'll be given all the data they think relevant, but I'd rather know everything I possibly can. Also, look for odd corporate ship movements. Freight and tonnage irregularities. Also look for any unusual cooperation between collection, cataloguing and salvage teams – especially the government-mandated ones. Most of the most curious activity so far is centered around the Relays."
With a short nod, the asari went to work, hacking the kiosk with practiced skill.
Ellie looked at her Commander for a long moment, as if deciding whether to say anything or not. Eventually, she furrowed her brow, and asked,
"We were close to that bastard batarian on Ellesmere Colony, Commander, the fractious worm." She paused, licked her lips. "I honestly don't understand why you just let him go."
"Priorities. When Councilor Hackett calls you, tells you things are dire and he needs you, you drop and go."
"But we aren't Alliance."
"And I wouldn't even be here if he hadn't run interference for me. I pay my debts."
"You still deserve more respect than to be summoned like some lapdog. There wouldn't have been any victory in this War if not for you."
Miranda sighed to herself. This again.
"Ellie… you're wrong about Hackett. You weren't there when I was overseeing Lazarus. I'm getting rather tired of this 'mythologizing' of what I'd supposedly done. I am not some mythical figure – and neither is Shepard. I didn't 'resurrect' him as if he were some silly demigod. I had no guarantees and almost failed any number of times. To me, it was just a puzzle to solve, a job to be done." She paused, looked back at Sajila. "I was a different person then – and no one to laud."
"Yes, Ma'am," Ellie conceded, but her tone said she didn't really believe it. After another few moments, Saajila nodded to herself at the kiosk and finished.
"Done. Forwarding it to the Phoenix. I also took the liberty of checking that info-packet you received from the Shadow Broker's drell."
Miranda just nodded.
"And…?"
Saajila frowned.
"It details a few incidences not previously reported. Odd patterns. A lot of mentions of 'quarians' and 'culpability'. All labeled 'mysterious' or 'inexplicable', like that explains them somehow." She glanced at Ellie. "Don't like it. Don't like how ambiguous this all is. It's… ominous." Coming from Saajila, Miranda's concern deepened.
"I agree." Miranda told her. "I've been assured that Councilor Hackett will fill us in." She smiled sardonically as she led them across the Presidium. "That doesn't mean that he'll tell us everything, however."
"But then, he doesn't have to," Saajila added. "Doing it our way, that is."
"Not that we don't trust them," Ellie finished. She and Saajila chuckled. Miranda just shook her head and kept going.
Miranda was almost to the elevator that led to the human annex of the embassies, when she stopped as she noticed the quarian approaching her in some haste. A female, clothed in Ambassadorial finery, it took Miranda a moment to recognize her. She waited and the quarian stopped a metre away, nodded formally.
"Miranda Lawson," she said, her voice filtered through her half-mask. Quarians were slowly being weaned off their suits, but many, strictly for comfort's sake, had begun wearing filter-breathers. The hoods of old had become elaborate scarves. That voice jangled her name loose in Miranda's memory.
"Ambassador Tali'Zorah Vas Normandy Nar Rannoch." Miranda nodded, and her companions paid closer attention at the mention of that name. "Congratulations on your recent appointment."
"It wasn't my idea, believe me," Tali'Zorah told her. "It's only 'Nar Rannoch', actually."
"Oh?"
"It was considered a little… pretentious for me to use 'Vas Normandy' as the Ambassador."
"I see. And I suppose, a human ship would appear like, what – favoritism?" Tali gave her a sour look, passed over the crack.
"I wonder if I could speak with you?" She glanced behind Miranda, and Miranda motioned for them to stay put and gestured to Tali to step away with her.
"I can't imagine how I can help you, Madame Ambassador." She returned coolly, tucked her hands behind her back. She had no great love for quarians, disgusted by their stupid and ill-advised war-within-a-war that nearly drove the geth into the Reaper's permanent thrall. She had often wondered why Shepard had tolerated her on the Normandy in either incarnation, as her combat record had been rather poor, with an almost 90% casualty rate for any action she commanded. Granted, her hacking ability was nearly unmatched, but command of others was not something she should ever be permitted to do again, in Miranda's opinion.
One would have thought she'd have long since been put somewhere else to keep deaths at a minimum… which, she mused, was probably why Tali'Zorah had been chosen as the quarian Ambassador. She was unlikely to get anyone killed on the Presidium.
"We've been tracking some unusual movement of Alliance data, communiques with the turians and asari, and now with the geth."
"Are you eavesdropping, Ambassador?"
"When it comes to Alliance vessels – among others - moving in and out of the Veil – Alliance survey and salvage craft, doing it without Conclave permission, then yes."
Miranda frowned. Survey craft? She made a hand gesture, followed by a series of finger movements that Tali could not see but Saajila could. The asari casually went back to the news kiosk and rescanned the 'nets.
"I'm not a member of the Alliance, Madame Ambassador. I'm not privy to any information that…"
"The geth Quorum have been allowing it," Tali told her, gleaming eyes steady. "The Conclave is a slightly more concerned. No official requests came to us. No one bothering to ask if we might have something to say about it."
"I doubt the Alliance is trying to violate quarian sovereignty, Madame Ambassador." Miranda smiled slightly. "If the geth have no concerns, why would the quarians, especially enough to illegally tap encrypted communications?" Tali gave her a skeptical look, glanced past her at her asari companion. Miranda nodded once. She got it.
"Because this is slightly more important than protocol. The Alliance ships are apparently salvaging damaged geth vessels." Miranda frowned at that. That was unusual.
"I can see why you would be concerned, yes. Given that geth ships tend to be simply more platforms for them…"
"Well, not anymore." Tali corrected her. The geth 'Awakening' had removed that ability from them. Now they walked ship corridors like everyone else. Their integration into systems was still far more involved than most species, but they no longer inhabited the vessels themselves. "However, if the ships were disabled before the Awakening, there would still be geth that weren't upgraded…"
"And would still have active Reaper code in them." Miranda finished for her. "Definitely cause for concern, Ambassador, but I still don't see how I can…"
"There have been several inexplicable events in the last several months. The unfortunate incident in our space with the turians, the disaster at the Naoshima asteroid colony, among others. They appear random."
"I've heard of a few, yes. They are random."
Tali shook her head.
"I would normally agree with you. However, the Alliance, the geth and the turians disagree. Several Spectres have been pulled to investigate these incidences exclusively."
"Do they suspect Reaper influence?" Ellie asked. Tali blinked, shook her head.
"No. Every reported encounter with Reaper ships in space all say the same thing – the Reapers are committing suicide."
"Suicide? That seems unlikely," Miranda protested. "Reaper ground forces attack frantically, but there is a semblance of order to…"
"This isn't conjecture, Miranda. Every fleet reports this. All Reaper ships over a certain size seem to be inviting attacks – and they either don't or barely fight back. Remember, Shepard only took down their barriers, and as far as we know, Sovereign acted independently of the Intelligence for centuries."
"As far as we know."
"Our scouts and patrol vessels are showing odd traffic all along the outskirts of the Veil – and the geth are insisting they are unconcerned, but the Alliance ships are just the tip of the rod. There are asari, turian, even a few batarian ships there. Not to mention Blue Suns and Eclipse craft." She sniffed. "It's certainly no coincidence. They aren't investigating Reapers."
"That is curious." Miranda cocked her head. The geth unconcerned about all those ships piqued her interest, but she kept it to herself. "Why not simply pass your concerns across the hall, as it were? If there are Alliance ships there, there must be a reason. If not Reapers, why the great secrecy? Surely it wouldn't be classified. I'm sure they wouldn't keep anything from you."
Tali gave her a solid "are you kidding me?" look, and Miranda mused on how much quarians were enjoying have facial expressions again.
"I don't expect you to tell me anything," Tali told her. "Don't forget, I was there for your tenure as Second during our fight against the Collectors. I know you passing well." Tali turned. "I already know Hackett called for you – he told me he did."
"I see. I was on my way to see him now, actually."
"Then I won't keep you." She stopped. "Two things: one, why are there five Spectres on Rannoch? What are they looking for? All the Reaper husks and ship hulks have been cleared away by the geth as they're not susceptible to Indoctrination, so what are they looking for? Two - Hackett may not tell you this, but Shepard is missing. He's been missing for months, and they've done nothing about it."
"What?"
"Just that. Nothing. You might want to ask him why. On both counts." Without another word, Tali turned and walked away, leaving Miranda with more questions than answers.
SHE PONDERED A FEW of those questions on the elevator ride to the still-being-rebuilt human embassy. The space was occupied, but the polish was yet to be applied. Telling her companions to remain in the foyer, Miranda wasted no time in making her way to Hackett's office, once occupied by the long-dead Donnell Udina, now remade in Hackett's image.
The august gentleman himself turned as his secretary led her in, his dignity immense, his age seemingly heavy on him. Considering what the man had done, the burdens on him in the War, she wasn't surprised. That his appointment had met near-universal acclaim and unanimous endorsement was also no surprise.
"Commander Lawson. I appreciate you coming so soon."
He gestured to the comfortable leather chair before his desk. She sat, crossed her legs and nodded. Hackett pressed a button on his desk, lowered himself into his chair, in no hurry.
"Of course. You said 'urgent', I take that seriously – especially coming from you."
He chuckled, pushed a pad across the desk to her.
"I can understand that." He pointed to the pad. Miranda didn't reach for it. "That's for you, for after. I need your help."
"If I may, Councilor, I'm going to be blunt: why? I'm merely the…"
"… yes, yes, the head of a company and a security consultant. I know the line. If we're being blunt – which I prefer – you can cut the standard politic disclaimers and we'll get to the heart of the concern. I called you because, at the moment, you are one of the very few individuals not a criminal or warlord with the money and resources to accomplish what I'm going to ask of you." He turned the monitor on his desk around so she could see it, hit a key.
"This is overwatch security vid-feed of the new Niflheimr Colony in the Terminus. It wasn't large, mostly the initial wave of fabricators and surveyors. A few outside techs." He activated the feed. "This was the main conference hall. Everyone that was on the colony is there in this feed."
Miranda watched, saw a large room, designed like an old-style cinema, all seats full, scan count 350. She noticed a small number of quarians off to the side. They all had the new Rannoch-based Quaritech Corp. insignias. The discussion was about the successful completion of the preliminary survey and installation of basic services, the leader thanking the quarians for all their help. In an open space in front of the main speaker, Miranda saw what looked like a hazy shimmer, which no one else in the vid seemed to notice. A moment later, what appeared to be a figure cloaked in black, limbless, floating, with a blank face and white pits for eyes suddenly coalesced from that shimmer. The people in the hall reacted as would have been expected. The figure spoke only a single sentence.
"Negative Instance For An Invalid Function."
It reached to the Speaker, seemed to touch her, and everyone in the hall – except the obviously-bewildered quarians – collapsed. When they rose…
"This is the same as…" she frowned. "The same being did this to the turians?"
Hackett nodded, said, "A similar one, yes," pressed another key. The vid changed to show the interior of a turian cruiser. The same figure appeared after a few moments of footage, said the same thing as before, touched the nearest turian, and the killing began. Surprisingly, there was another contingent of Quaritech Corp techs onboard.
"That was the PFS Unyielding Instant. The vessel that destroyed the Naoshima Asteroid Colony. You notice the quarians were also untouched? They tried to divert the ship to the colony to get help. They obviously failed. An accident."
He called up another piece of footage. In this, what appeared to be an asari 'Haven' camp on one of their colonies. Again the same figure, the same sentence, the same enforced indiscriminate murder.
"There were three thousand asari there. Security forces that arrive after aren't affected by whatever it was that caused them to do that."
Miranda scratched her chin.
"No quarians this time?" Hackett reached over, tapped a few keys and the vid zoomed in. Again, a group of untouched quarians, this time a supply team. Miranda's frown deepened.
"What I've shown you is just the tip of the iceberg, Commander. Unlike the incident at the quarian refugee camp with the turians, none of this has been released, nor have the quarians in question been allowed to talk to anyone yet. So far there have been over thirty incidences like these – not all had quarians present, but where they are, they are spared."
"The new quarian Ambassador…?"
"Ms. Tali'Zorah hears and sees what we want her to, frankly. Although I can't blame her for wanting to know. If this gets out…"
"Whatever that thing is, it's sparing the quarians. That wouldn't look good to anyone."
"We can't afford this kind of division right now. We can't afford suspicion or anyone – quarians included – thinking they need to resort to more violence."
"That explains the Spectres on Rannoch." Hackett shook his head.
"I was outvoted on that one. One would have been bad enough, especially with the quarians already edging into paranoia."
"The turians can't be remotely happy."
"They aren't. Nor are the asari. Fortunately, there are cooler heads in their commands than in the Conclave."
"Do you think it is something the quarians are doing?" Hackett shook his head.
"If they are, it doesn't help them in the slightest. It's liable to get them all killed, especially if the Council starts to think the quarians are trying to strike while the iron is hot, as it were."
"… or they were under some other influence." Again Hackett nodded.
"At this point in the state of things, it will be shoot first, glean answers from the rubble."
"What's your assessment, Sir?" Hackett leaned back in his chair.
"I doubt the quarians are quite so nefarious and stupidly greedy, since it gains them nothing – or this blatant. All present insist under interrogation that they were as surprised as anyone. You saw how the quarians that did try to help were pushed away." Miranda nodded. "We tend to believe them. However, it looks very bad. So far it has only been humans, asari and turians in these incidences. If there have been salarians affected, their security is far better than ours. Not a single report. So far."
"I can definitely understand the concern, Sir. But why not…"
"…ask Shepard?" He smiled slightly. "Shepard is also missing. The ship he was on was reported empty, along with other… abnormalities." He sighed a near-inaudible sigh. "That dossier should get you up to speed. This needs to be kept as quiet as possible. Shepard's disappearance is different enough to raise some interesting flags among our analysts. Also in the dossier. I know you have contacts and resources we don't have and can't spare. Use your own judgment, Commander. The dossier contains suggestions for personnel to recruit or interrogate."
"I see. Ex-Cerberus, deniable asset, daughter of the Sanctuary Monster. No one will really care if I happen to 'go missing' myself."
"Nature of the beast, Miranda." She blinked, paused a moment, then nodded with a wry smile.
"Suits me fine, Councilor." Hackett pointed at the button on his desk with a small chuckle.
"We'll let them back in on our conversation before you leave, shall we?" Miranda shook her head, reached for the dossier as he pressed the button.
"Thank you for your consideration in this matter, Commander." He told her, holding out his hand, which she took and shook.
"I'm happy to help, Councilor. I'll get to the bottom of this."
"I know you will."
Miranda took her leave of him, rejoined her crew in the foyer.
"Are we in deep, Commander?" Saajila asked her. Miranda led the way to the elevator.
"Deep enough."
"What's it about?" Ellie asked her. Miranda tucked the dossier into her jacket pocket, sighed.
"Saving the Galaxy, Ellie, naturally. Again."
TALI CLOSED HER OMNITOOL, frowned deeply behind her breather. She'd heard more than Hackett anticipated. She shared his concern, and was glad he was still in charge. It would be far too easy to blame the quarians for all of this. Tali also didn't doubt Miranda would look into it with all the resources and depth a "perfect" brain could muster, but she'd be damned if they'd leave the quarians out of it, especially if the situation was so potentially deleterious to quarian survival. War was the last thing anyone needed. Despite Miranda's snide insinuation, Tali had not forgotten from whence her greatest influences had come, no indeed.
She pondered all of three seconds and immediately called Kal'Reegar to the Citadel.