With less than an hour or so from Ilos, April decided to make the call. The timing was reprehensible, considering where she was making the call to but the person she had in mind only had herself to blame. Having as much information on certain murky subjects was a priority under current circumstances. Timing be damned. She had been trying to get a hold of Miranda for the past few days during business hours on the planet she was on without success. There was no reply to the messages she left behind. Either the woman had decided to cut herself off from contact or she had taken herself off somewhere or she could be dead. The last was unlikely. Someone would be on the horn to her if that happened.
When the first attempt timed out, April dialed again and again. Come hell or hither, she was going to get a satisfactory response. She programmed the comm to keep dialing and put her feet up on the bunk. There was no one in the room. Liara had taken Dorrin's invitation to tour the cruiser and shake the kinks out of her muscles after cooping herself up working on the backlog of missives from her operatives. As she was settling down for a light doze, the call was unexpectedly picked up.
"Thirty over calls, persistent dialing. I thought the galaxy must be falling apart again and here I find you wriggling your toes."
April opened her eyes and grinned at the screen where Miranda looked enquiringly at her. The former Cerberus agent had a tired look around the eyes as if she had been on her feet for hours. "I'm an old hand now. The galaxy can wait, my toes are more important," she said.
"You can wriggle them a bit longer. I'm dying for a drink." With that, Miranda disappeared.
April gazed with interest at the view of Miranda's room. Getting rustic, are we?
The walls were a light golden chestnut colour. They might not be but they looked wooden to her. A framed picture hung on the wall facing her and what looked like a bow hung on hooks over it. A cluster of sunflowers on a window sill, or what looked like sunflowers. It was a little hard to see as it was shrouded in shadows. In a corner stood a musical instrument she could not put a name to but stirred a vague memory. Part of the bed could be seen. It was unmade, rumpled cream and maroon bedsheets atop what looked like a bunk made of twigs and branches. Did Miranda teleport herself into the past couple of centuries? When the ex-Cerberus agent said she was going to settle down with her sister, Oriana, in a backwood colony, April certainly did not envision this. Five years on and the ice queen appeared to be taking it easy.
Miranda reappeared with a steaming cup in hand, looking more relaxed in a cream white robe. "So what's the fire?"
Dropping her feet to the deck, April sat up. "How up to date are you on control chips?"
Miranda didn't answer immediately. She sat for a moment, a frown on her brows clearly indicating her internal collation of what she knew.
"Dissemination of information on successful development of any material was always handled by the Illusive Man. Precedence was given to critical projects and specialized hardware, most particularly control chips. Deployment of control chips was exclusive in field agents besides non-consensual and uninformed subjects."
"But?" April probed when Miranda hesitated.
"That exclusivity was lifted during the advent of the Reaper War. My people and I found the hardware ubiquitous in every Cerberus member we came across, be it a trooper or a clerk. You asked how up to date I am. Whatever I know of the hardware is dated. Why?"
"There is speculation not all Cerberus cells are rendered defunct. That some of them are active. Security scanners are programmed to cut out the TI but what about those who are chipped?"
Miranda's frown deepened. "It's hard to say as we've never tested the algorithm on a chipped person but I don't think the scanners would pick up on it. The chip functions subtly. It directs a person's actions, sending signals that mimic brain pulses. It does not visibly change the pattern of mental processing or leave any physical tracks in the brain."
"Damn, that's what I'm afraid of."
"You think you've rats in your group?"
"My group?" April lifted an eyebrow inquiringly.
"Come on." Miranda snorted and gave a look that said 'do you take me for a dummy". "Persistent calls and now the inquisition about control chips. You're going somewhere, doing something and you think your butt is uncovered."
April threw her hands up in surrender. "Right on all counts. Do you think the versions you knew would have been improved? Is there any way to detect them?"
"Short of going through a head scan, there is no other way of detecting it. As for improvements..," Miranda frowned. "The early versions were clunky and easily picked up in physical scans. The signals were more of brute force compulsion. It was too crude as subjects were unable to accept the directive and usually suicided or went wild. The refined version was smaller and consisted of a V.I. given a set of parameters to recognise and gradually influence the subject towards the objective, often using the subject's own psychological inclinations towards that end."
"What are some of these parameters?"
"It depends on the objective. If a person is targeted, the specifications would concentrate on the subject's colour, size, type and habitual pattern. If it's data, it's less complicated. Any improved version-," Miranda's expression turned dark, "would probably involve subsuming both program and the subject's mentality."
April wasn't sure she understood. "How is that different from the old version?"
"The old version sits apart. It allows the subjects their autonomy. They live normal lives and carry out their own inclinations. Rejection of the directive is also possible if the chipped subject is aware and has a strong personality. The new theorised version allows no argument, no personal freedom. Be glad it's only theory."
April winced. "What happens if there's a need to change mission parameters? Is the subject recalled to undergo a procedure?"
"Too retro, Shepard." Miranda shook her head in disapproval. "Changes can be affected through a simple email, a vid or a signal."
"That easy," April muttered as she imagined herself implanted with such a chip and having the Illusive Man pulled her strings every once in a while with a touch of a key. How fortunate he was in control of himself during her resurrection to reject Miranda's proposal to put one in her. "Can the chips be disabled using the same method?"
"Yes but each chip carries a different code and no, I don't have any list to look into," Miranda added.
"The Cerberus cells were isolated before but if a few heads in charge are able to think and function normally, what possible resources can they call upon?"
"Before, I would say with certainty that without the Illusive Man, the cells are essentially incapacitated as their allocated resources is finite. If they have the audacity to carry on and sell off their projects to the highest bidder, they could each become an autonomous organisation. More so with so many Cerberus caches out there if they know where they are," Miranda said. "During my search for Oriana, I received feedback from a few contacts within that a large number of Cerberus employees, researchers and troopers were sent for retraining. There's no question they were chipped or had Reaper implants installed."
"Brynn Cole did say several of her colleagues who had completed their part of the projects, disappeared." April rubbed her chin musingly. "What kind of status would they be in now?"
A grimace of revulsion crossed Miranda's face. "Before TIM lost himself, all of them were moving to his dictates. Once he fell to indoctrination, although a portion had no Reaper implants, they would all switch to the Reapers' tempo. Without the Reapers and once TIM died, the thralls will follow the TI pattern of strikes against Allied interests. The rest who are chipped and do not have the Reaper inplants would revert to the parameters that TIM had originally set."
"So we're looking at possible separate entities with plausible diverging ambitions. If they're aware of one another's existence, would they cooperate?"
"I think it's more likely they would try to eat one another."
April nodded in agreement. "That is a possibility. It is also possible they have agents out in the field and working with the TI. What do you think the unaffected cells, if there are any, are doing? Other than the caches which I assume is mostly hardware, how much do they have to go on?"
"Shepard, do the math." Miranda leaned into the screen at her end. "Four billion credits to rebuild you was just a drop in the bucket. Don't forget the showboat he tossed over to you to hunt the Collectors down. He had been stockpiling for decades. I doubt it's used up in the war."
"Touché," April said wryly. "Don't let Joker hear you say the Normandy's a showboat, he's practically glued to EDI."
Miranda sighed. "When would I get a chance? So," she looked enquiringly at April. "What else do you need?"
"Much as I hate to say this but could you possibly drag yourself out of your halcyon abode to let the Alliance pick your brains on the control chips and the Reaper implants? We need to find another method of detection other than dragging people off for brain scans."
"Took you long enough," Miranda said, seemingly not at all put out.
"You were expecting this development?"
"Not exactly," Miranda shrugged. "I was hoping-," she broke off and shook her head, "let's just say I was trying to be optimistic, thinking that we're done with Cerberus."
"We will be, Miranda," April said encouragingly. "The Alliance have been examining into the Cerberus corpses they iced from the war so there's a lot of paperwork to sift through."
"The smart ones always start at the bottom. That's where all the good stuff filtrate to." Stifling a yawn, Miranda looked pointedly to one side. Probably the chronometer. "So where's my ride?"
"The showboat is already on the way."
"That certain of me, are you Shepard?"
"You bet your ass I do. Keep in touch."
"Sure. Give my regards to Liara. I think I can see her breathing down your neck." A flash of a grin before Miranda cut the feed from her end.
Down her neck? April turned around in surprise to see her bondmate seated in one of the armchairs, working on her portable console. She did not hear her come in at all. She said nothing, leaning back in her chair as she quietly reflected on the conversation. How many Cerberus groups would there be? One was bad enough, now they had to deal with more that had every reason to work with the TI. Would they have agents everywhere? If there were any in the Ilos expedition, the odds of sabotage was very high. That's one too many thorns when they had to consider people who were TI sympathizers.
They would have to be screened before they went down to Ilos, she decided. A careful and secure setup so every one was under scrutiny when they were told. Omni-tools would be confiscated until they were cleared, she decided. She should have asked Miranda if chip insertion left any visible sign on the head. It was highly doubtful the procedure would be as costly and complicated as surgery. The method of delivery would be straightforward. Her train of thought vanished when Liara spoke up.
"It is hardly a surprise that Cerberus survived as long as they did. The Illusive Man was a ruthless and canny adversary. He had the ability to attract supporters, the capability to grow his resources and strike at his targets without anyone the wiser he was behind it all. The mechanism he built would continue on its course even without his hand on it. If the Reapers had not interfered, he would have achieved his ultimate goal."
"On the home front perhaps," said April. "The question is would he be satisfied with that?"
They stared thoughtfully at each other. "Unlikely," they said in unison.
Slouching down in her seat, April put up her legs again on the bunk as she interlaced her fingers before her face. "You heard what we were talking about right?" She felt Liara's affirmation. "I'm wondering what his heirs are thinking and planning. They have to have lost quite a chunk of their forces and resources when the Reapers found out what TIM was up to. If they're thinking of knocking down the Systems Alliance and taking over at home, they might not be able to do that."
"Not with the Citadel and two fleets sitting there," Liara murmured.
"Right, so would they set aside the goal for Earth temporarily and try to carry out TIM's aspiration elsewhere? Build up a colony, grow the next generation to finish what TIM started."
"That speaks of a future conflict. Come over here." Liara beckoned and pointed to the data shining on the screen of her console when April reached her. "Look. In the first six months after the end of the war, the number of skirmishes with the TI were all confined to the boundaries of their homeworlds and colonies. The only air power they were capable of were kodiaks, gunships, skycars and converted merchant freighters. There is nothing to indicate they have warships. All the armaments they used on the ground were regular weaponry."
"Given how much malevolence they have towards us, they would have fired their biggest guns at the onset."
"Yes. Now, ten months later, reports of unknown attacks on shipping and stripping of refueling stations. The incidents are too wide spread and too far from the homeworlds." Liara tapped another key to display another row of data. "That is also the time when the galactic economy was reviving and picking up pace. Feron said traders from newly setup companies were putting out feelers for scavenged tech parts and recruiting human workers at the same time."
"You think they're working for Cerberus." April studied the data. "Wait. Did you say human workers?" That familiar stone pit came to settle in her stomach. "Admiral Hackett did not mention those."
"He would not know about them," Liara said unhappily. "Recruitment is not upfront. The terms offered are attractive. Regular working hours, six hundred credits a month, food, accommodation and medical care."
"The right kind of incentive to offer when food was the foremost criteria back then," April muttered grimly. "It's not going to matter which Cerberus group is recruiting. If they're behind the attacks, if they're snapping up tech parts on the market, it can only mean their resources are not as deep as we thought."
"These are only numbers, April, not names of the people behind it," Liara cautioned.
"Who else could it be? There are no other candidates," said April. "Cerberus fielded fighters, frigates and cruisers in the fight at Cronos Station. Hell, they built the second Normandy. We have to find their shipyards."
Liara sighed. "That is not going to be easy. The workers have to be replacement work forces. If they are in operation for the past five years, they must have at least warships ready to go active in the next year or two. I have sent a list of the traders to the Systems Alliance. Feron is running a closer check into their background. However the suppliers are much more diverse and murky. They are trying not to attract attention to themselves."
"You know what," April said with a flash of anger, sick and tired of having to deal with old adversaries once again. "I wished I had shot the heart out of TIM. I should have tracked down every single one of his cronies, lined them up before a firing squad before spacing their corpses."
As she began to pace, a chime from shipwide intercom sounded before a voice announced, "Thirty minutes to orbital insertion. Expedition members report to docking bay. Captain Shepard please report to CIC."
"I hope we get some damn answers down there."
Unfastening her tunic and pulling off her uniform, April tossed it on the bunk before going into the bathroom to refresh herself. When she returned, Liara had her hardsuit and undersuit laid out on the bunk. As she reached for the undersuit and drew it on, Liara reached out to touch the scars on her back and felt the anger simmering in her.
I want them gone as much as you do, April. {anxiety} But please ...
Part of me is vexed I wasted so much time. Five years. I should have realised Cerberus aren't completely done yet. Now I find we have to battle two fronts! And neither of them are so obliging as to stand out there to be shot.
April...
I know, I know. I'm just venting. {sigh} April put her arms around Liara. I want them gone. Totally gone so I can breathe easier. Knowing that you and I, our child need not have to start at every shadow.
We will. See that brighter day. Promise me you will not go dashing off trying to deal with everything yourself.
Liara tried not to recall those desperate times when April had told her to go, to save herself. Twice it had happened. April survived. A third might see the end of her bondmate. She tried to suppress the fear she was feeling. The warmth and feel of her bondmate against her eased the distress somewhat.
There won't be a third. I promise. April placed a quick kiss on her lips. Now, before Dorrin send out search parties, we'd better get ready.
With Liara's help, she buckled on the hardsuit in record time before she helped her bondmate with hers. Scouring the cabin to make sure they brought everything they needed and put away dirty clothes, they parted at the door. Liara to the docking bay with the duffels while she went to CIC. Clutching her helmet under her arm, April took the express lift to the command deck. The lift doors open to a quiet hive of activity. Compared to the CIC onboard the Normandy, it was bigger. There were more manned stations and crew around the main plot display in the middle of the deck. An empty chair behind a curved bank of consoles stood nearby. It was where the commanding officer could seat himself and had instant access to both crew, data and ship operations during battle conditions and emergencies.
"How does it look?" she said when she reached Dorrin who was standing off to one side, reading a datapad.
"We ran three different scan cycles from the probes we launched when we entered the Refuge System." He waggled the datapad in his hand. "Active scans on approach confirmed it's pretty much a dead world, no peeps anywhere in the system. I'd say you're good to go."
"Good." She nodded. "Anything from the 71st and 75th?"
"Nothing yet. I'll send on any updates if they uncover anything."
"There's one thing I want to do to eliminate at least one group of plausible hostiles," April said and told him of the screening process she had in mind.
"Catch them off guard, that's a good one," he said approvingly. "I'll alert the med team at LEM1 (landing bay emergency medbay one) and a security detail will be ready when you get down there. Shepard," he added when she turned away. "Good luck down there."
"We sure can use some. Oh, and ready your shovel, just in case." She grinned and threw him a sharp snappy salute before returning to the lift and descended to the docking bay.
The expedition researchers were busy stowing away their equipment and duffel on the shuttles. The marines that were to accompany them were loading the last of the supplies. At the armoury, Lt Ulros handed her a rifle, a pistol and grenades which she signed for. Her fingers ran easily over the weapon components, feeling she was reuniting with old friends before she clipped them to the weapon mounts on her back and waist. She waited until the researchers finished their tasks before calling for their attention to gather. A squad of marines had already arrived and stood watchfully.
As she made the announcement that the researchers were to undergo an in-depth body scan for security reasons, she scrutinised every face for the least sign of worry and fear. There was none, only puzzlement. A few wanted to ask questions but she waved them away. With the marines, she led them to LEM1, a corridor away from the docking bay. Though not as big as the main medbay on the upper decks, it was fully equipped to deal with all kinds of medical emergencies. None of the researchers demur when they were told to remove their omni-tools and hand them over to the marines before they stepped into the body scanners. It lifted a weight off her mind. She was not surprised when every one of them passed with flying colours.
They went back to the docking bay. As the researchers boarded the shuttles, she ran an eye over the squads that were to follow. Command of the ground force was hers so she had spent some time with the marine contingent to get to know them. Except for a few fresh recruits, most were veterans. Besides the security they would provide, additional muscle power would be needed. The more hands to dig, the faster the job would get done, Dorrin had quipped. Moreover the marines could use some 'liberty' after being cooped up on a warship.
Liara was already strapped down when she boarded the shuttle assigned to her. She checked the equipment secured in the middle of the cargo hold as lieutenant Ulros closed the hatch.
"All ready, sir," he said.
Alright, let's get rolling.
Poking her head briefly into the cockpit to speak to the pilots, she sat down next to Liara. Before long, the shuttles lifted off. As the cruiser gradually fell back behind the shuttles as they headed down towards the planet, she looked out of the window to see a familiar rust coloured world.
There better be an answer down there.