Crescent Nebula, Tasale System
Illium
The chimes were soft, sounding out precisely at intervals. Barely audible in the silence but a hand reached out to wave once before the sensor interface. The chiming stopped. Slipping out of bed, Lance headed for the bathroom and ran through a quick cleansing cycle. Back in the bedroom, he chose his outfit with care and dressed. Though the chronometer on the table declared it was near noon, he did not hurry. Nor did he bother to make himself a meal. Instead, he checked the message box at the table terminal. His lips twitched briefly in amusement at the sole message. A glance around the room. Nothing was out of place. Satisfied, he exited through the front door, locking it behind him before making for the lift lobby.
The scenery outside the windows at the lift lobby was beautiful. A lush profusion of flora spread at the feet of towers, wavering brightly in the sun. He paid not the slightest attention to it, nor did several others waiting for the lift. It wasn't real. Not with the modest location of the residential block. One among hundreds of others nestled in the common district of the business sector. There was nothing more than a vista of slate grey and splashed white facade of towers behind the projected image should one care to look. Despite the substitute, any one in search of real representations had only to step into the city or beyond the city walls.
With a studied air of distraction, he called up various xtranet pages on his omni-tool, stepping in automatically when the lift arrived. Leaning against the wall of the lift at the back, he affected absorption in reading. Unnoticed, his eyes flicked up to examine his fellow passengers swiftly now and then before dropping down to the screen. Lapping in soft waves against his ears was the murmur of conversation that he tuned in easily. Bits and pieces of mundane driftwood. He smiled faintly at the effort one of the passengers put into tempering his tone as he argued over a private comm. He closed his omni-tool when the lift came to a stop and stepped out with purpose through the modest lobby.
Outside, the little group melted into the larger whole of the populace. Some headed for the parking lot, a few turned for the public transport stop while the rest streamed across the large plaza. Though taking a skycar or one of the public mass transport vehicles would cut his journey to ten minutes, he chose to traverse the distance on foot. He stepped from one auto-walkway to another as he headed to the hub of the the business sector. There was little need to scuttle for shade despite the glare of sunlight. By design, the rays was blocked out by towers and tinted glass artfully covering the entire plaza and open areas across the city without impinging on the spread of flora.
The city was located in the higher polar latitudes of the planet where the climes was cool, dispensing the need to enclose the populace in arcology housing. Occasionally, the weather would turn chilly but not so today. It was a good day, he decided as he rested his eyes on his surroundings. The pace of the crowds was that perpetual toing and froing of fluctuating speed, driven by varying needs and purposes. Aware of time trickling away and all too conscious that he would never taste such atmosphere again, he paused at a transfer pad to savour it. He gazed at towers that seemed to reach into the clouds, the dizzying dance of shapes and colours, the electronic noises, bustle of people, the smell. Life. Sighing, he continued on his way.
Without realising it, he stepped aside before he registered the sounds of heavy footfalls behind him on the moving walkway. Even so, his right shoulder was soundly buffeted. His eyes flicked up in annoyance to meet a challenging stare. He fixed his gaze coldly on the lower pair of eyes, daring the batarian to say something or do something. Maybe he would draw that pistol attached to his belt. The batarian lowered his head but Lance knew better than to divert his gaze to the upper pair of eyes in a deliberate confrontation such as this one. That would give the batarian an even better excuse to start and finish with most of the cards at his end.
The batarian started violently forward. Lance leaped back a pace, hands balled up into fists before realising that one of the batarian's companions was responsible for the threatening move when the batarian was jerked back at the same time. A low mutter and a punch to the chest. The batarian was shoved ahead of the group. An Ovent patrol squad, he realised, from their uniforms. The batarian threw him a parting scowl but moved ahead when prodded by the squad leader, a grizzle-hair scar-faced older man who spared him not a glance. The squad leader knew better than to allow one of his men to spark off an incident. It might developed to a row among the Execs of Illium; a loose consortium that came about centuries after the asari corporate leaders settled on Illium and formed the Illium Directorate.
Their far-reaching investments in materials and sapient trafficking made Illium into a vital entrepot between the Terminus Systems and the rest of the galaxy. They were also the reason most of Illium survived the Reaper onslaught. The price in ensuring such an outcome had been huge. They used everything at their disposal to repel the invasion. A large mercenary fleet was gathered, much credit was offered to draw in troops to defend the system. Recruitment for labour and essential sectors also increased. Every bit of ordnance and materials, proven or otherwise, was snapped up to provide teeth to take down the invasion forces. It was an act of desperation. A fight for survival. It worked, for a while.
Led by mercenary commanders who were able to determine from intelligence files shared by allied forces fighting similar incursions all over the galaxy, the Reaper invasion force advancing into the Tasale System comprised of destroyers, not the dreaded capital ships. Prudent to the fact that the defense fleet would suffer heavy losses were they to confront the destroyers directly, they made every effort to destroy enemy transports as they approached. Gardian turrets took care of the ships that slipped through the perimeter. Ground troops made sure to eliminate any enemy husks that survived the barrage. Such fierce resistance ensured none of the cities fell but everyone knew sooner or later, the destroyers would follow.
Come they did and would have made planet-fall on llium saved for a suggestion made by one commander that was deemed banal and ridiculous. For lack of any better plan, it was carried out and the heaviest fussion bombs were scattered among the battle debris orbiting Illium. The bombs didn't kill off the destroyers, only creating sufficient damage to drain part of their shields. The defense fleet attacked, suffering tremendous losses before successfully forcing the reaper destroyers to retreat. To lick their wounds and recoup, everyone knew. More effort was made to churn up more ordnance in spite of sabotages by enemy agents. They stripped the vast warehouses and took in anything the populace had to offer and repaired the surviving ships in the fleet.
More enemy troop transports arrived and were shot down. Then word filtered in that reaper capital ships were on the way. Those who could run had already gone, including some execs who gathered up whatever remaining assets they had left of their stocks. Those who chose to stay were determined to make the enemy pay for every inch of ground. He himself had volunteered to take up an empty post on one of the ships in the fleet. He was right there, on the bridge when the next wave of reapers arrived. He knew there was no way anyone would live. The following hours was terrifying. Ship after ship of the defense fleet was shot down. The privateer he was serving on, Blood Hawk, was in the right flank, suffered heavy damage and was just as ready to go up should another bolt struck them.
He remembered the fires, the smoke and burnt consoles. The screams, the cries for help. The shrills of alarms. The captain's voice shouting commands over the din. A wailing cacophony of their impending doom. He stayed at his post. There was nowhere to run really so he heard the order to ram. He admired the captain for his bravado. It was fitting. A last defiant spit in the enemy's eye. They would die standing, not cowering. He stood straight at his station, watching the holo-display as the icon of his ship headed for the nearest red tag. He took several deep breaths, conscious they were the last. Conscious of nearly everything around him as he silently chanted a cursing mantra at the enemy.
The next thing he knew, a sickening invisible wave seemed to run through the deck. The ceiling rushed at him. This was it, he thought. The end. And then he bounced off that surface to drop back down to the deck, hitting his head so hard he blacked out. He went into that abyss willingly, grateful he was spared the agony of pain. When next he opened his eyes, it was to realise with a flash of dismay and panic that he did not die, that he was lying on a pallet in the small medbay of the Blood Hawk. It took some time for the surroundings and a few factors to sink in.
One was that though the few medical staff were busy, none of them looked upset. True, there were moans of pain, the smell of blood and medicines. They moved about with that familiar calm urgency but there was no extreme distress. The second was that he could hear laughter out in the corridor. The third was that the ship was not shaking, no alarms were blaring. Hardly daring to hope, he stopped a passing nurse to ask what was the noise about and could not credit what he heard; the reapers were destroyed. In disbelief, he shook his head, forgetting his head injury, and he passed out again from the pain.
The story, however much truth there was in it, filtered in as he recuperated in one of the hospitals on Illium. Word was that the allied forces took a gamble on the discovery of the blueprint of an ancient prothean weapon which offered a slim chance to remove the reapers. The weapon was built with the help of every researcher that could be found. It was only after it was completed that it was discovered that the Citadel was essential to operating it, hence, they took the weapon to Earth and fought to reach the space station through overwhelming enemy forces. Much credit was given to Captain Shepard in reaching the control mechanism onboard the station and firing the weapon. Whether there was truth behind the assertion she was responsible, he was inclined to believe it was. People would say fortune and fate favoured her. He knew better. She was who she was.
The Blood Hawk had nearly joined their enemy's demise. Whatever energy that the weapon dispersed shorted out the ship's navigation systems. The captain, when he realised the reaper capital ship they were heading to had gone inert, ordered a course change and the helm failed to answer. The captain had then ordered all port sections evacuated and port side airlocks flushed. He hoped the tiny impetus and the distance they had yet to cover would push the ship off course. It worked although the ship didn't escape without some serious scrapping along the port side and a hull breach. It didn't matter. What was more important was that they had survived and the galaxy was safe. They had another chance, to make it right.
A brush against his arm brought Lance abruptly back to the present. He looked around him with some confusion before realising he had missed his transfer point. Continuing in the same direction would bring him to the spaceport. Stepping off at the next available point, he took another auto-walkway back and got off at the nearest exit that led to the restaurants. There were more patrol squads, almost lost in the crowd that streamed to and fro across the plaza. They stayed clear of one another. Although public order remained the jurisdiction of the directorate, the TI threat brought about a negotiated agreement to use part of the exec security forces to bolster defense against this new enemy.
With much of their capital spent in the war, none of the execs who remained were keen to start any controversy. They kept their forces on a tight leash. Their first priority was to recoup their losses. Their stimulant was one reason why the galactic economy picked up its legs faster than any one expected. It went without saying that they were not entirely honest on the total extent of their holdings but what could one expect from such a group? Factories that previously produced war materials began to churn out essential consumer goods and sold cheaply, alleviating the tight constraints imposed on the populace and reducing discontent to the minimum. It also helped that the aftermath of the war also left behind an enormous number of empty posts waiting to be filled.
Taking care to avoid running into any of the security squads, Lance strolled along leisurely, ignoring the constant but subtle security scans that swept over the crowds. He turned in the direction of a familiar holo-sign, the Captains' Union, shining over the entrance of an enormous complex. The doors slide aside as he approached, revealing a congested lobby. A motley mixture. Most were wearing the uniforms of shipping companies. Several were in civvies. Smacked in the middle of the lobby was a rotunda with dozens of clerks busily attending to the hundreds of transactions, queries and needs of freighter captains, ensuring smooth exchanges that made Illium the trading hub it was. Over their heads, names of ships gleamed on the huge holo status board that tracked arrivals, departures of merchant vessels and merchandise that were available for trading.
Frowning worriedly, Lance studied the status board, moving to a spot where he would have a clear view, bringing up his omni-tool as he did so. The sudden clap of a heavy hand on his shoulder startled him. He turned to see a dark grinning face. So dark was the complexion it was a match for the black and yellow outfit the newcomer wore.
"Look who finally turn up! Greenacres."
"Knae, thought you'll be on the last leg to Horsy." Lance thumped his friend on the shoulder as he pumped his hand heartily.
"Would have but Bluey thought to make a last splash for the Citadel before the route is rewritten so Yaerae took over my route on the Misty. I was on my way out when I saw you." Rocking back and forth on his heels, Knae cocked his head at his friend, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "So where've you been for the last few weeks? What nefarious deals have you been dabbling in, eh? Care to share with an old mate?"
"Heh, I wish I had sealed a deal," Lance snorted in disgust. "Nah, I had to settle some family skeletons. You know how it is," he shrugged helplessly.
"Stella's at it again, eh?" Knae shook his head. "You're a shining example to this single never to tie the knot." He snapped his fingers. "By the way, I got that email before you dropped out of sight. I threw out some feelers. Your billing's good. You know you're asking for a tough one, don't you? Riztik deals hard contracts and he's not one you can cut corners with. It's not a good call, Lance," he warned.
"I'm well aware of that," Lance said sombrely.
"Why don't you ask ships from Bluey? She may be hard but she deals fair." Knae frowned when Lance looked away. "Don't you trust me?" he said, surprised at the closed look on his friend's face and was somewhat offended.
"Don't be ridiculous, Knae." Lance turned back and looked at the other man steadily. "I would have taken it straight up on the bang the moment you offered it but Bluey doesn't have the hulls to spare at the moment. What she has are tied up, I can't ask her to take the trouble to heave over rocks in my path while cluttering up her own. I've a few million tons of cargo sitting in the warehouses for the past month with the rentals eating into my credits. If I don't start shifting those cargo before the contract runs out, I'm liable to be charged. Those missing freighters of mine aren't going to turn up and insurance isn't going to cover those losses. Not only that, I'm still waiting in line for the Citadel rubber stamp. I need a solution, right now."
Knae stared at him, troubled. "Lance, Riztik is not someone you can turn your back on. He asks for two and takes six. I don't think it's a good idea."
"It's just a rough patch now. I'll be fine." Lance smiled confidently. "There are people depending on those cargo, I can't let them down."
Pursing his lips, Knae wondered if he should continue to pursue the issue and then decided to drop it. Lance had a stubborn streak, if he wasn't going to change his mind, then he wasn't.
"There's some scuttlebutt that the Alliance found some hijacked freighters," he said. "I think one of them is Bay City but I've no confirmation. It's worth checking out. If it's really Bay City, they're likely to release the ship over to you since you own her keel plate."
"If they had, I would have heard something by now. As for releasing the ship, maybe they will, maybe they won't," Lance said doubtfully. "By the time all the paper work is done and I get a crew out to bring the ship here, I'm dead in the water. And that's not the worst," he added glumly. "What's worse is that they'll start thinking I've a hand dabbling in dirty deals. You know which way they would jump." He stared meaningfully at Knae who grimaced uncomfortably.
"I used to hold to that banner but that was before the war and the TI. Now," Knae snorted wryly, "now, I'm not going to blink at all the ground rules they're putting up. People make a lot of noise about toeing the lines but for all their screaming and gripping, they know other than the Alliance, there's nothing else out there they can trust that's going to keep them safe."
"The Alliance." Lance snorted derisively. "We know who's been making it work and who saved us. It's not the Alliance."
"Still have a thing for her eh?" Knae shook his head. "21 years and counting. What would you have done if she hasn't gotten herself married?"
"A dead man forgets." Lance returned evenly.
"Does Shepard know she has a stalker?" Knae said jokingly and held up his hands defensively at the flash of anger in Lance's eyes. "All right, forget I said that. Look," he said, deciding to change the subject. "Riztik's having grub at Jolly Green right now. I'll see if he's willing to talk."
"The day Riztik decides profit isn't worth his time is the day I retire to the outer reaches," Lance said drolly, drawing a chuckle from Knae.
The smile dropped from his face the moment Knae disappeared in the crowd. He pretended to peruse the status board as memories floated before his eyes. A tall thin young girl with red hair and guarded blue eyes. Her smile and her laugh. The sympathy in her eyes, the focus on him whenever he spoke. The passion. He closed his eyes. Indecision gripped him. Should he or shouldn't he? The question twirled in his head. He jerked, startled, when Knae's voice came to him as if from a long distance.
"Lance...Lance!" Knae stared at him anxiously when his friend's grey eyes finally turned to him. "Are you sure you're fine with this?"
"Fine with it? No but I don't have a choice, do I? Don't worry." Lance patted Knae's arm to assure him when he frowned at him.
"You want me to...," began Knae, deciding he should accompany his friend to the negotiations though his ship would miss its spot in the departure queue.
"It's not going to be settled fast. I'm not going to land you in trouble with Bluey which is where you will be if you miss your schedule. Go on," he urged when Knae didn't move. "I'll let you know how it turns out. I swear," he intoned solemnly, placing his hand over his heart.
"If he shoots you a leaky fast one, you go to Bluey," Knae said insistently, mentally making a note to send a message to his boss to help him keep an eye on Lance. "And the next choice waterhole is on you so you better make it a good one."
"Count on it." Lance returned Knae's wave and watched him disappeared into the crowd with much regret. There was so much he wished he could share with his old friend. He would really miss him.
Thessia
Kelice Military Academy
There was no place to go so Gallia went to the academy. She hadn't been cleared to return to duty so there wasn't any trainee company waiting for her or any paperwork for her to clear at her desk. She thought she'd do some baking but recent memories decided that she should lay off for a while. Most of the trainees were at the training ground behind the academy so she parked herself at one of the observation posts at the training ground that could accommodate three companies. Using the long distance viewer mounted on the observation post, she could see that two were currently engaged in maneuvers against each other. She couldn't see who was in charge but the exercise was well underway. She settled down to watch in one of the comfortable chairs.
"Gallia."
The unexpected call made Gallia jumped. She turned in her seat to find Sanar climbing the steps of the observation post. "Hi."
"I wasn't expecting to see you here," Sanar said brightly as she visually examined the human. Thinner but a lot better than the last time she saw her at the hospital. Her skin had a healthy flush to it, her brown eyes were clear, not cloudy with drugs. "You aren't clear for duty yet."
Gallia shrugged. "I got bored at home. There's only so many times I can work myself to death at the gym."
"Don't push it, Gallie. You might make it worse," Sanar said sympathetically, her eyes flicking to Gallia's legs with concern.
"You're not the only one telling me that." Gallia heaved a sigh. "How're they doing?" She jerked her chin towards the training field.
"Better. A lot better. You won't recognise them when you come back."
"Damn. I'm glad." For some reason, Gallia felt as if her day became even more clouded.
"What's wrong?" Sanar asked in surprise. The tone in the human's voice was surprisingly bleak.
"What? Nothing."
Sanar didn't think so. Perhaps Gallia was feeling ineffective. The human had always been a boundless bundle of energy. The convalescence would have been trying for her. "You can always drop in and help with the paperwork," she suggested. "There's always tons of paperwork or you could take a short spell at the defense tower. I think it wouldn't be a problem to arrange it."
She knew Gallia had been part of the Tower Five crew and made some friends. Going back there for a while ought to restore her mood. To her surprise, Gallia went white and then red.
Gallia shook her head. "I think the paperwork sounds better."
Something was troubling the human but Sanar didn't think it was the right time to probe her about it.
"Great," she said cheerfully. "How about starting right now? When that lot comes in," she waved at the recruits at the training field, "I'm sure they'll have plenty of things to tell you."
Gallia shrugged. "Sure, I don't have any where to go at the moment." She got off the chair and went down the stairs.
Why did she say that? Sanar stared worriedly at her friend's back as she followed.
Kelice Medical Centre
The atmosphere wasn't exactly frigid or choleric, merely polite. Gracious, if she wanted to be generous. Shepard took care not to look in Hannah's direction as she paced slowly around the office, wishing for the umpteenth time that her mother didn't have to come to the appointment. A glance at Liara who sat in the couch opposite Hannah, eyes closed. Probably meditating, as per the obstetrician's orders. She could also be simply tired of looking at the both of them. In her shoes, she would.
Turning away, Shepard took in the little touches around the simple but spacious office. An asari as old as Telienos would have garnered hundreds of commendations but there were no walls of plaques to reflect those achievements. Instead, there was only a large picture of an ethereal scenery that covered the wall next to the desk. A few holo-displays of people on top of a low cabinet along the opposite wall and a silver lesew flute resting on intricate hooks above it. It had a worn air about it. She wondered if it belonged to Telienos.
The matriarch wasn't in the office. That was mostly her fault. Too jittery and anxious to think of anything else, despite Liara's efforts to distract her, she had decided to go to the appointment early. She expected to be shown a waiting room, Telienos's assistant had shown them into the office instead.
At the windows behind the desk, she paused, looking over the wintry garden. The anticipated cold had arrived, stripping everything bare and laying about a carpet of white. It would be her sixth winter on a planet she was coming to think of as her own. She was looking forward to spend most of it looking after Liara. Hopefully, the Old Man would desist throwing something her way. She didn't want to be away from her bondmate during her critical period. Something shifted in the garden. She frowned as she stared at the couple walking along the path. Was that..? Was this where the prothean had been disappearing to during the day? She wondered what Javik had to discuss with Telienos. They were talking rather animatedly.
Softly and silently, she dropped into the couch beside Liara. She glanced at Hannah who was checking something on her omni-tool and clasped her hands together, thumbs rubbing against each other. Telienos would not reach her office that quickly so she tried to straighten her roiling thoughts as she closed her eyes, only to open them again. Restlessly, she shifted, her gaze finally coming to rest on the mythical picture. A feminine figure was depicted sitting beneath a waterfall, streams of water falling from her outstretched hand. Was this Athame? Several smaller companions around her were either looking on attentively or reaching for the water. Another closer look and she realised that there were subtle nuances on their faces and postures. There were minute objects scattered around too, now that she was really looking at the picture, with intriguing hues glittering in the light. It didn't look like a holo-picture. Painted?
Telienos's voice caught her by surprise. She looked up to see the asari walking to the armchair opposite her. Beside her, Liara stirred and opened her eyes. Hannah turned off the omni-tool and straightened in her seat.
"My apologies, I had to attend to another matter," Telienos said, gesturing to them to remain seated when they began to stand.
As in Javik? Catching hold of that thought before it could slip out, Shepard said instead, "I'm afraid I jumped the gun."
Telienos understood the gist of that statement though she never heard of it. "As would anyone in your situation," she smiled. "Rest assured there is no device recording this conversation. Whatever is said here-," she looked at Liara and Hannah, "will only be shared among those who are germane to this issue. The outer office is locked, my assistant will not return unless I call for her. Besides the fact," she continued, seeing Shepard's surprise, "that you are my patient, the less known about the Cipher, the less fodder there is to feed rumours. Given the current tumultuous state of galactic affairs, further complications should be avoided."
"No dissent from me," Shepard said fervently, relieved.
"I agree," said Hannah. Liara only nodded.
"Then, Shepard, to fully grasp the event that changed your life and brought you to the situation that occurred on Ilos, you should start at the beginning," said Telienos. "No doubt, you would not have put everything that had happened in your official report."
"No." Shepard shook her head. "I only stated I found a clue to Saren's whereabouts. The only people who knew were those who I have taken with me to the Thorian's lair beneath Zhu's Hope."
"They are?"
"That will be Liara, Garrus Vakarian and Kaidan Alenko. The rest of the squad, under the command of Ashley Williams, were stationed above ground and did not witness the event."
"Vakarian and Alenko have your implicit trust?"
"Major Alenko died in the war. Garrus always have my back," Shepard said firmly.
"I understand," Teleinos said softly. "Please, recount what happened."
Clasping her hands together as she gathered her thoughts, Shepard thought back to that day.
"Feros was under attack by geth forces. Given Saren's affiliation with the geth, we went there in hopes of finding clues to his whereabouts. What we found was that ExoGeni Corporation were illicitly conducting experiments on unsuspecting colonists when they discovered the Thorian beneath the colony."
"What is this Thorian?" Hannah asked.
"It's a plant like sentient creature that hibernated for thousands of years before waking up to gather resources for its next sleep cycle. How old it was, I've no idea, but it existed long before the time of the Protheans. The company allowed the Thorian to make thralls of the colonists in order to study it."
"What kind of effect did it have on the colonists?" asked Telienos.
"Through the spores it spread, it gained control over the populace. They were able to function normally but compelled to carry out whatever tasks the Thorian had in mind. Their behaviour was erratic when we asked questions. They were evasive when we tried to ferret out the reason behind the geth attacks."
Thumbs twiddling, Shepard shifted on the couch, feeling somewhat uncomfortable and felt Liara's hand on her arm. It settled her.
"Did they try to fight against the compulsion?" asked Telienos.
"A few did. For their defiance, they were given pain. Most gave up but a few stubborn ones continued to fight to get the warning across-," Shepard paused when a soft chime sounded.
Telienos looked down at her omni-tool. "We have one more person joining us, excuse me." She got up from her chair and exited the room.
Hannah was puzzled. "I thought we are the only ones to know about this matter?"
"No, there is another." Liara patted Shepard's arm and felt her start when she showed her who it was.
"You called her?" Shepard grasped her bondmate's hand, feeling the warmth of assurance flooding in.
"She has to be here if we are to understand what had been done."
Even before the door open, Shepard could feel her approaching presence. The last time she felt it, was on Illium. Then, it was strangely fluctuating and wavering, unlike the surge of beating energies on Feros. Now, it was different. Tasted different. Startled, she looked at Liara who stared back wordlessly. The door hissed open and Telienos stepped in with someone. Shepard got up with Liara and looked across at a familiar purple hued face.
"Hello Shepard." Shiala smiled at her.