Disclaimer: I do no own Mass Effect, I do not claim to own Mass Effect, I am only doing this for fun.
Author Notes: All I have to say was that this episode was a pain. I had a false-start or two early on, ideas that simply were not working out, which lead to some blockage as I tried to figure things out.
Episode 34: Armistice Day [Part I]
Their return trip to the Citadel aboard the Indomitable was largely uneventful. Shepard spent most of that time ensconced in the shared bunk room the ship's captain assigned her, splitting between recuperating and working up an appendix for Nihlus' report. She still had some lingering fatigue and minor headaches, so she could not work full tilt. For once she used her meager privileges as Nihlus' trainee to request that they let her have the bunk at her convenience. The Indomitable's captain had not put up much resistance after Shepard told her why she needed more sleep than normal. The junior officers largely left her alone as well, after the basic pleasantries were put away that is.
When they arrived on the Citadel the Indomitable was due to return to its unit without docking, so the captain arranged for a runabout to take them onto Zakera Ward, to one of the public shuttle docks. Fortunately the crowds of harried travelers did not pay much heed to a runabout dropping off two passengers and then zipping right off. Shepard was not in the mood to create a scene either. She already had a mental list of things that needed to be done.
First things first, they stopped at a public message terminal, where Nihlus clearances got them jumped up the data burst queue. Shepard sent a message to the Normandy to say that they had arrived on the Citadel. Shepard fully expected Kaidan to take that as 'get over here as soon as possible' orders. Even then, she could not expect them to arrive today. They would have to hire a room in some middle-grade hotel for the night.
Truthfully, Shepard would have loved five stars, with a spa. However that was nothing more than a dream on the Citadel. The room fees here could be more expensive than the most expensive resorts on any resort planet. She could not justify spending that much money. So she could only dream of the luxury of getting a nice back massage.
"We have some hours to burn, what is on your agenda?" Nihlus asked as they stepped out of the port and onto one of the long low-level thoroughfares, which were a network of tunnels running the length of the ward arms. Each tunnel had a pedestrian section on either side of a fully-enclosed four lanes of low-speed cars, serving the lowest levels of the towers above. They were also the only places where one could, in theory, walk the length and breadth of the wards. Not that many would walk the full forty kilometer length of the ward.
Shepard glanced down at her omni-tool to check the time; she had long ago configured it to show both Terran Coordinated and Galactic Standard. The former was essentially Normandy time, and the latter was Citadel and Council time. She hummed thoughtfully. Because of the difference between the two, it was the start of the day cycle on Arcturus, but early evening on the Citadel. Her internal clock was closer to the mid-point between them, and with all the naps she got in the last day meant that she was not sleepy right now. She could still do something light for a few hours. The question was then what? Then her stomach rumbled, and the decision kind of made itself. "Well… No offense meant Nihlus, but… you ate all cooked meals on Taetrus; I had to make do with rations. I want food."
"No offense taken. I could eat something myself. What are you in the mood for?"
"Something fast, carby, and wholly not good for me." Shepard replied. She was dithering between pizza and take-out Chinese or Thai.
"Pick your poison." Nihlus said, chuckling. "There is a Skycab stand over there."
Shepard chuckled; fast food was picking her poison alright, but right then she did not care, she wanted to eat something that tasted good. She followed where Nihlus indicated and spotted the large square where at least ten Skycab kiosk pads were arranged in rows, with vehicles waiting for paying customers. Her feet did the rest.
They were about ten meters away from the Skycab depot's entrance when Shepard felt a subtle vibration on her wrist that indicated an incoming message. She brought up her omni-tool and the message was on top when the interface lit up.
"Is it Alenko?" Nihlus asked quietly.
"No. It's from Wrex. He's on the Citadel."
"I did not realize you let him stay on the station."
"I did not know he remained on the Citadel." She did not know, but she was not surprised either; Wrex was a bounty hunter, a mercenary, and a krogan. How much control could one have over any one of those things? To say nothing of all three. The Citadel certainly seemed to be no worse for wear either. She would bet that Wrex had some sort of business on the station, and chose to do it while they were on Taetrus.
"What does he want?"
"He asked where we can meet up." Shepard replied.
"Great," Nihlus grumbled.
Shepard chose to ignore him. Now she had to make here eatery selection carefully. Not only would it have to be a place where the food was both levo and dextro, but it would have to be in ample enough quantities to satisfy Wrex. There was only one sort of place Shepard could think have where such would be the case, somewhere all-you-can-eat. She typed a quick reply telling Wrex that she would send him another message with a location shortly.
In the end Shepard resorted to asking Avina. The Citadel's VI information system had a list of all the businesses on the station, so finding something based on needs was easy enough. Shepard asked for an affordable, but decently-rated eatery that would feed humans, turians, and krogan alike. She got exactly that.
She had her squad-mate from the ICT, a high-spiking Vanguard, as a reference. Leif could pack away five thousand calories and just burp in a satisfied way. Rightly it became a bit of a joke among them that Leif was actually an Adept, and could form a singularity, though only when eating, and in his stomach. With such a shining example, Shepard figured she was justified in taking precautions with Wrex. The last thing they wanted was to get kicked out.
In the end Shepard settled on a large fast food place that advertised an expansive galactic menu suited for guests of all species, including Elcor, and which boasted a Chinese-take-out-style buffet. Just then, the thought of a large plate of chow mein with three different types of meat made her mouth water. After that it was a matter of giving the Skycab's VI a very precise destination designation. Once the cab was moving she sent the destination code to Wrex as well, along with the description of the place.
It took a half an hour ride to get to the restaurant. Outwardly the place did not look like much, a typical grey-walled rectangular space set into a large section of the street level of another of the ward towers. The large sign advertized the place as the Galactic Express, a name befitting what the place tried to be. The front windows showed off the crowd eating inside, as if the place was using the quantity of its patrons as a way of saying their food was edible.
Inside the place was still that very bland grey color that seemed pervasive for the citadel. However the owners tried to spruce things up with somewhat random choices of urban skyline wall art, admittedly on the same theme of having the whole galaxy represented. The restaurant's mostly open space was divided into multiple seating areas, with certain spots offering more robust seating than others. Like a typical fast food eatery there were no tablecloths, and the condiments were at the dispensers by the drink fountains, but the plates and the cutlery were not disposable, so that was something. The food was served from the two rows of keep-warm serving counters that dominated the width of the restaurant along the back wall. The dextro section, which was about a third of the overall length of the counters, was evident from the signs posted above.
After paying up front for the buffet and staking a claim on a table large enough for Wrex to be comfortable, Shepard was perfectly happy to practically teleport toward the food. There were a lot of different dishes in place, with Terran staples as well as Thessian and Sur'Kesh, but she wanted her chow mein.
A couple minutes later, just as she sat down with her plates, one laden with noodles, and a smaller one with the vegetables and meat, a large and rather familiar shadow fell over her.
"Wrex," she greeted.
"Shepard." He replied. "This is not the typical place for me to be eating at."
"I assume they didn't give you trouble?"
"No, just… I'm not used to this… civilized eating."
"No one here is drinking tea from tiny cups with their little finger out. That's civilized." Shepard murmured as she picked up a clump of noodles with her chopsticks.
Wrex chuckled, "I assume that's some human thing, so I will take your word for it."
"Wrex." Nihlus greeted as he stopped at the table, carrying a large plate positively laden with food. Shepard would have described his meal as a meat salad, with chunks of a few different varieties that probably came from different animals, both terrestrial and fish laid on top of a familiar brown grain that cooked like rice, though it swelled up in size far more. On the side Nihlus brought a small bowl of something blue-tinged, but cut into long flexible strings. To Shepard it looked positively like pasta made from meat, not grain-based dough.
"Kryik. I was wondering where you went off to." Wrex replied blandly. "Alright, Shepard, I'll be back with food, and we'll talk."
"Sure," Shepard replied.
Nihlus watched him go for a moment before he put his food down and eased onto a seat across from her. "Should I be worried about damage bills?"
Shepard looked up to give him a glare; did he really just ask that? She was not going to justify that with any sort of reply. There was no way to miss that Wrex did not particularly care for Nihlus or Garrus, whereas he outright did not like every other turian. Still, did Nihlus have to return fire?
Wrex returned a few minutes later with a full plate that could have very well been a serving tray for the rest of them. "So." He began as he sat down, causing the robust stool under him to creak rather loudly. "What are you planning now, Shepard?" he asked.
"Waiting for the Normandy," Shepard replied blandly as she took another bite of her food. That was not a total lie; it was just the first thing on her agenda. She would bet a month's salary on Wrex being up to something. It was patently obvious just from the fact that he asked about her plans. She also did not want to talk about what was actually on her agenda. If Wrex found out about the armor, questions would inevitably follow. From there she could see him making a choice comment about it, Nihlus reacting to the choice comment, and the whole thing escalating from there. Shepard did not want to be in the middle of that. "I'm more curious about what you're doing on the Citadel, Wrex." She did not care if people could hear the wheels grind on that track change.
"Business, Shepard. I asked you that for a reason. If you don't want to tell me… fine, employer prerogative. I know you enough to know you keep enough secrets to make a salarian envious."
Shepard chuckled, "Alright, you got me there Wrex. You are going to enlighten me about this business of yours, or are you taking a page from my book?"
Wrex speared a chunk of a green-colored tuber-like vegetable with his knife and rolled it around so that the sauce poured over it would spread on its surface more, before he popped it into his mouth, pulling it off the blade with his teeth. He took a brief moment to chew and swallow, even as he set the knife down. "I should," He said after what amounted to a rather long pause. "But as much as it is not my usual way…" He inspected the tuber closely and intensely for a long moment. "In this instance… I could use the help."
"You'll have it," Shepard replied automatically. She knew the significance of this. After the Krogan Rebellion and the deployment of the Genophage, which served as a cultural cataclysm, Wrex' people had defaulted back their ancestral honor codes. In that way the Genophage sent the whole species into the proverbial Dark Age. Where most did not know how to handle their norms, or worse, saw them as archaic barbarism, Shepard could respect their ways well enough. More than that, she could understand why he was hesitant. Asking for help was asking for a favor. Being the one who had to ask for a favor could also be construed as an admission of some weakness. Asking a foreigner? It just could not get any worse. "What can I do?" She had no reason to leverage her honor over his, to wheel and deal.
Wrex turned his head just enough to give Nihlus a long piercing look, which might have been also his version of stink-eye, but the Spectre merely put another chunk of meat in his mouth and swallowed, the picture of nonchalance. Shepard set down her chopsticks.
Wrex turned back to face her. "How much do you know about the end of our war with the turians?" He asked.
"Truthfully? Only what most know. That said… I know history tends to be written by the victors." Shepard replied. In this case, the victors were the Council, and they had indeed written the history to make the Krogan look bad.
"That's an awfully nice way of putting it," Wrex mused.
"Humans do have a way with words," Nihlus slipped in.
"I need your help with something that goes right back to the end of the war." Wrex said, as if Nihlus had not said a word.
"Oh?" Shepard asked.
"There were other things the turians did..." Wrex began. "The Genophage is just the thing they couldn't cover up." He spared Nihlus a side-glance.
"If you are trying to get a reaction, you are looking at the wrong turian." Nihlus replied blandly.
"Surprise, surprise. He knows not to pick a fight with me," Wrex rumbled, amused.
Shepard knew the sight of storm clouds on the horizon when they began to rise over it. "Just so you know… if I have to pay damages to this place, I will take it off both your salaries until I come up even." Not that she was paying Nihlus anything, but if he went and did anything to warrant it, she would come up with a way to make his life miserable somehow.
"Protecting him now?" Wrex asked with a teeth-bared krogan version of a cat-ate-canary grin on his face. "Alright. I'll play nice. But only because you asked."
"So… the war?" Shepard asked, intentionally pretending she did not pick up on the insinuation. Wrex was the right sort of bastard who loved to try and get a rise out of anyone and everyone, simply because he could then demolish whoever took offense. He wore his power like a badge of honor.
"Ah yes…" Wrex straightened and shifted his weight. "The Genophage ended the war, but it was not the final atrocity of it. After the final warlords were forced to surrender… the turians created the Krogan Demilitarized Zone."
"That I am familiar with." Shepard replied. The Krogan DMZ was a cluster of three major systems; Aralakh, Dranek, and Nith, with a smattering of smaller, less important, relatively resource-poor systems. It was basically the home cluster of the Krogan, with Aralakh being their home system. Tuchanka, their home world, was called the most inhospitable place in the galaxy even before wars, both the Krogan Rebellions and the Krogan civil disputes, reduced it to a radioactive wasteland.
"There were laws put in effect that enforced it. For one, my people could no longer build ships… not even unarmed ones."
"Because any ship could be a weapon in krogan hands." Nihlus added. "If one hits a city at just under the speed of light…"
"Sure, that was your justification." Wrex argued back. "But I am not here to complain about that. I know some of the warlords would have done exactly that. It isn't even the other things we were no longer supposed to have: the weapons, armor, and the technology to manufacture more. The worst was the seizure of the ceremonial clan panoplies. Your people took things that were there before the salarians came begging us for help against the Rachni. Want to dispute that, turian?"
Nihlus did not say anything.
Wrex smiled, and kept going. "Now if those things were treated like they should have been, if they had been destroyed… fine… But no, that's not what happened. Tell me, Kryik, how many of your old military families who trace their lineage to the war have krogan war trophies? How many of your legions use our things as proofs of their past glories?"
Nihlus' mandibles drew up against his chin, broadcasting to everyone that he had just gone on the defensive.
"They said they destroyed those things. They lied. And they called us the uncivilized ones."
Shepard kept quiet, what could she say to that? For one she was not turian, so she could not pass any sort of judgment. Add to that, war trophies were not even a turian invention. Point at any human war and you would find people who took trophies. She was pretty sure that if she dug in, she would find plenty of krogan taking trophies too, macabre ones even. The taking of trophies was ubiquitous in honor societies. But then, Wrex seemed to have an issue with the dishonesty rather than the taking of trophies. She could even see where it might be coming from. After all, some of those same trophy collectors would probably say they were above something like that, thus the lie. That was the problem.
Worse yet, Shepard could see the beginning of a long list of festering grievances just under the surface. The issue, unless addressed delicately, could devolve alarmingly. It was her experience that whenever two sides locked horns over something, the truth was lost somewhere in the middle, but good luck making either side see it. They would sooner turn on the neutral middle-person for not taking their side. Shepard did not want to be the neutral party on whom they turned, but she also would not take a side. This put her in a rather very ugly position.
"Shepard, I want to get back something that belongs to my clan. Our ceremonial armor. It was worn by my father's father, and five generations of Urdnot clan leaders before him. By all rights it belongs to me, not to a… trophy collector." Wrex all but growled the last two words.
"I can not allow you to attack Hierarchy citizens," Nihlus stepped in.
Wrex turned his head slowly, and stared the Spectre down, "Let's make one thing clear, Kryik. You can't stop me." Nihlus opened his mouth to protest when Wrex snorted, "Save it. I'm not an idiot who would attack a Hierarchy colony. Those items are largely beyond our reach until you pyjacks admit you lied, but… at least they are reasonably safe in all those vaults. No, my clan's armor is in the hands of a no-good varren-shit pirate. He collects cultural artifacts for bragging rights."
"Are you sure?" Nihlus asked.
"Of course I'm sure!" Wrex's voice rose. "Run his name yourself, seeing as you don't trust me. It's Actus, Tonn Actus."
"Alright Wrex, where is he?" Shepard asked. Did Nihlus have to goad Wrex on? Shepard was no fool; she knew that if she refused to do this, Wrex would never forget it, and despite being centuries old, he would still outlive her. She did not want that sort of resentment. So the only option left to her was to make the best of things and try to mitigate potential collateral damage. Her position as his employer might just be good enough for that.
Wrex let himself relax in his seat, as if deflating, so he looked positively hunched over, which only emphasized the sheer bulk of him and his hump. "My sources say he got himself a vault in the Argos Rho cluster. I will not say exactly where here."
"Argos Rho," Shepard froze cold. "That's Alliance space."
"Yes. That's why I could use your help, Shepard." Wrex replied, his voice mellowing a little.
"I see your conundrum. Yes, we can do something. Especially if this guy is as you say… a pirate." If he so much as scratched the paint on some human-operated shipping, she could justify curb-stomping him to her superior. Because curb-stomping it would be, given that Wrex was very much involved. "Just, let me ask the obvious question. You said he's got a vault. That would mean he's got more than your clan's armor. What are your plans those things?"
"I have… a few ideas." Wrex replied. "Now that I know that you're willing to help me… we can hash the details later. Now eat. I can hear your stomach from here."
Shepard grinned, well if that was not one of the most embarrassing things anyone has ever said to her. Then again, maybe it made sense, she was quite hungry. The fact that Wrex sometimes had the manners of a bull in a china shop had been long established. He had his own codes, ones that allowed a lot more skull-cracking than most. It did not come with the sensitivity not to say things like that. Of course, such sensitivity could also be entirely human, brought on mostly by a lack of a general ability to hear those things to begin with, and the seeming weirdness of those who could.
As she took her next mouthful of food she idly pondered what sort of ideas Wrex might have. She could not help but notice that he omitted telling her why this mattered to him personally, save for one little thing. He let slip that the armor belonged to the heads of Clan Urdnot, and specifically his father's father, and rightfully his. Shepard could connect the dots from there, and they seemed to hint that by all rights Wrex was supposed to be the leader of a clan.
If she then tipped her head and squinted, she could begin to see what the other things could be good for. If Wrex brought the haul back to Tuchanka, one could argue it could be grounds for re-asserting some sort of power, the beginning of bringing back honor. To be sure, the clans whose things he brought back would owe him. It posed a few interesting possibilities, but also asked a few questions. Namely, why now?
As long as she had known him, Wrex had never talked about his past, his family, or even his clan. He was a fierce fighter, could drink them all under a table, and he had a temper that seemed to rise whenever anyone said anything that came off as telling him what to do. Yet it could be argued that all that was just his version of professionalism. It made sense why he never opened up about his personal life. Opening up was showing a weakness. His version of professionalism demanded he keep his private business just that, private.
So what changed his mind? Had something happened? Or had Wrex always been keeping this sort of thing covered up with krogan machismo? Was this decision to say something nothing more than necessity? Shepard could see it. Over a thousand years had passed since the end of the Krogan Rebellions. The Urdnot armor had vanished a long time ago, only to resurface now, somehow. Was Wrex's decision nothing more capitalizing on an opportunity? There were simply too many questions, and too few answers.
The quirks of Wrex's thinking remained in the back of Shepard's mind throughout the meal, but Wrex had indeed brought the discussion to a halt by mentioning her growling stomach. After that the three of them turned to the task at hand of making like a pack of carnivores on a freshly-killed carcass. Wrex truly did eat a lot, more than he consumed on the Normandy, which made Shepard wonder whether they had been under-supplying him, even though he had never complained. They left the restaurant an hour and a half later. Shepard could not even walk fast without jostling her stomach, but ask her if she cared. She had good food for the first time in a week, nothing else mattered. It was not her norm to binge-eat like this, but she would, just this once.
Once they were outside, Wrex announced he still had things to do. He wanted her to message him with where the Normandy docked and by when to get there when she got the information. Shepard promised him as much and he walked off, glowering at people who looked at him even a little too long. Shepard was oddly amused by that, those people earned the glowers. Did they really have to stare at the krogan?
After that, Nihlus was quick to find a hotel, nothing too posh given that they only needed the rooms for one night, and nothing too expensive because Shepard could not justify that. After settling in for the evening, she cleared the coffee table in her room and got to work disassembling Vincent. It was long overdue, but this was really the first opportunity she got where she had the space, time, and no disruptions. Within half an hour her worst fear came true. When she opened the main section and peered down the length of the accelerator rails it was impossible to miss that the thin ceramic plates that lined the space were shattered. The gun would not fire now, not with those gone, as they were there to insulate the rails and prevent shorts between them and the gun's other components.
The pieces of ceramic positively clogged the very rail channel. There was no real way of fixing that. If she took the module and rails from a different rifle it would make her gun that rifle in Vincent's skin. The individual characteristics were a product of manufacture, and they were as unique as fingerprints. No two accelerator rail assemblies fired the same. There was no way to go about it; her beloved rifle was going into retirement. She put Vincent back together as far as possible and sighed. The only thing left to her at this point was to consider her options.
There was little work she could do in the hotel right now. The best she could do was address the obvious, and possibly easier task of coming up with a list of things she would need. She normally did not chase the bleeding edge upgrades, because those tended to come with bugs in the system, but now was the time to consider the options. She wanted the proven reliable, and after that she would learn to get the most out of them. She ended up composing a list of all the components that would need replacement in a note file on her omni-tool. Once she was satisfied with having handled all the little details and accounted for all the little things, only then did she allow herself to hit the sack.
When she woke up, one open eye told her it was not even the crack of proverbial dawn. Her hotel room's blinds had yet to open, though she had set them to open automatically at six-hundred hours Galactic Standard. The hotel room was also too quiet. She had gotten used to the bubbling of her empty fish tank. Even on Taetrus there had been some noise, the hums and chirps of native insects, or even the breeze. Here on the Citadel there was nothing.
The hotel Nihlus found was just a section of a mixed-use tower, and Shepard did not even want to think about the fact that on the other side of the large transparent panel windows was actually the cold vacuum beyond all atmosphere retaining fields. She could totally understand why some people could never get over being this close to empty space. Void phobias had emerged about as fast as space travel became common.
She sat up in bed, resolved to banish all those unwanted thoughts even as she pondered what to do. Breakfast was in order, but it was much too early to go out, and she did not want to pay the fees for room service. Shepard reached for the small remote device on her bedside table and clicked the on button, and the large vid screen across from the bed turned on without even having to aim at it. The hotel apparently set all their room screens to turn on to the Citadel News Network broadcast channel, both because of discretion, and because the bandwidth for that channel was probably the cheapest.
Right at that moment the last of the late-night broadcast was recapping major events that happened in Council Space. It was a mix of natural disasters, like a minor tremor felt overnight in the largest city on one of the Hierarchy's many colonies. The mention was brief as the place was known for said tremors, and Hierarchy engineering ensured that buildings could withstand it. No one got hurt, and damages were limited. After that came the report of the death of a prominent Thessian matriarch after a long-term illness, whose estate was now being claimed by her three daughters, despite the will naming only one. Shepard found that oddly amusing, because no matter how civilized anyone pretended to be, division of assets always seemed to bring out the worst. Shepard clicked the screen off and then made for her bag to grab her toiletries. She would start the morning with a nice hot shower on a bigger water budget.
By the time she emerged from the shower, dressed in comfortable civilian cargo pants and tee-shirt, the room's blinds had opened, signaling morning. She plopped back onto the bed and clicked the screen back on. This time the broadcast was definitely morning news. Shepard had just settled in to watch when her omni-tool chimed. A quick tap revealed a message from Kaidan; the Normandy had cleared the Widow relay and was beginning clearance procedures to dock.
Shepard smiled, sent him a reply to tell her where they docked, and left it at that. It would be about an hour, maybe two before the Normandy was berthed. The address line also told her that Kaidan had batch-sent that same message to Nihlus, Wrex, and her, to save himself some time in typing. It was time to get ready. As she moved about the room to gather her things, the vid screen continued coverage.
"Today the Citadel is expected to receive delegations from the Earth Systems Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy to commemorate the signing of the armistice accords of 2157 which ended humanity's First Contact War."
She froze in place across the room and turned her head to look at the screen. It was Armistice Day? No bloody wonder then that she did not get her mother fawning over her just the second she heard about Taetrus from Admiral Hackett. Her mother would be very busy around now, given that she had done the purported-to-be-impossible, and had been the favorite lieutenant of Admiral Kastanie Drescher herself. The media would be hounding the Titanium Lady with a vengeance because they would not be able to get within a kilometer of the retired admiral without her permission, and that was hardly likely to be issued.
"The three-day peace summit will see Alliance parliamentary and military representatives meet with Hierarchy officials to discuss ongoing peace efforts."
Shepard honestly wanted to laugh as she went right back to putting the contents of her mobile locker in order. The summit was a sort of polite mock-play at peace and mostly a display of 'we are getting along fine, thank you very much,' to allay fears in the general galactic population. Because no one wanted to see the Hierarchy and Alliance start firing at each other again. Since neither side would back down, the consequences would be dire.
She was glad she would not have to be in that room. Some of the older, more conservative members of both the parliamentary delegation and the admiralty would be bothered by just having to be in the same room as a turian, seeing only former enemies who killed people under their command. Hopefully the Hierarchy would not be so tone-deaf as to send the generals who had been in command of the ground invasion of Shanxi.
"Armistice Day, as it is known within Alliance space, will also mark the twenty-sixth annual protest organized and led by the chairman of the Terra Firma party on the Citadel. Our contacts in Citadel Security assure us that violence is not expected, as the event had always been a peaceful demonstration. Nevertheless, security forces will be on hand to lend assistance should it be needed."
Shepard grimaced as she shut the locker; Terra Firma, of course. The other side of the proverbial coin. They were a very vocal minority in Alliance parliamentary politics. Staunchly conservative, their base policy rested on the belief that with integration into galactic society humanity was at a risk of losing its distinct culture. The problem, as far as Shepard could see, was how many xenophobes they attracted, and how much of a stuck record that thinking was. That song and dance had been done by countless people before; even back when it was against globalization on Earth and the endangered culture had been European, and not the Earth's as a whole. They willfully ignored the fact that there was no single culture on Earth, and their platform was basically the old 'us vs. them' line in the sand.
"And finally, Zakera Ward, home of the Citadel's largest human population, will host its twenty-fifth annual Earth Cultural fair. This annual week-long festival features live stage performances, vibrant ethnic outfits, food, drink, souvenirs, and traditional carnival games for the children."
And then there was that, she thought as she moved to gather her errant laundry and toiletries, to stuff them back into her duffel. For all of Terra Firma's complaints, the cultural fairs had always gone over well. The first ones had been a way of saying 'here we are and this is what we do', but the sheer variety and uniqueness had quickly won over crowds. It was not all that peculiar to see someone bring a non-human coworker or a friend to these events. There were also an ever-increasing number of human-asari mixed couples as well. She knew because some of Terra Firma's pundits sang and danced about the danger of losing genetic diversity too, if people continued to associate with the asari.
Her room door chimed, and before Shepard could even move her omni-tool binged with a short distance message from Nihlus, simply 'At the door'. Shepard made her way over and pressed the unlock button, allowing the door to open. The Spectre wasted no time stepping into the room. "Morning," he greeted.
"Morning, Nihlus," Shepard replied as she moved back toward her duffel. Right then she could not quite do up the zipper, a mystery given that she had not added a darn thing.
"I assume you want to be on the Normandy as soon as it docks." Nihlus asked.
"Can you blame me?" She replied.
"Not in the slightest. Listen, I wanted to tell you… I looked into the name Wrex gave us. It checks out. Tonn Actus' name comes up. There is suspicion that he buys stolen art, or worse, commissions its theft to begin with. He is also wanted for tax evasion by his home colony."
"None of that is standard Spectre fare," Shepard said as she glanced back over her shoulder.
"Yes, but it gives me the right to act. He is definitely not the upstanding citizen I can not harass."
"Good to know you will not harass upstanding citizens. Here I thought Spectres could act with impunity."
"I do have scruples, such as they are." Nihlus grinned.
"But not a single shred of humility."
"I do not pretend to be perfect." He replied with that signature cocky grin.
Shepard smiled and shook her head; she would not have it any other way. He really was one of those rare people who wore arrogance like a well-tailored three-piece suit that flattered him. Nihlus' displays of swagger were mostly of the benign sort. At the end of the day she could still count on him, and that mattered more than how much swagger he displayed when he happened to do what he did best.
"Unlike a certain someone else in this room." He added chirpily after a moment of silence.
And then he went and did that, the nuisance, but she was not going to rise to the occasion. "I was watching the news. I completely forgot that Armistice Day was coming. Truthfully, it's the last day I want to be on the Citadel for."
Nihlus hummed, and Shepard knew he knew why she did that abrupt change of topic. "Yes, I can understand that. I am not so oblivious that I would miss how much you hate politics."
He was also apparently letting her off the hook, thank her lucky stars. "Oh it's the politicians more than the politics, but one doesn't come without the other." She said. "Alliance politics are muddled. On the one hand we have those like Admiral Hackett and my mother, who do not hold any animosity toward the Hierarchy. To be sure, the Hierarchy could admit that they fired first and asked questions later, but realistically speaking we know that sort of admission will never happen. On the other hand we have the others who still expect and keep ready for the Armistice to lapse. Admiral Lindholm of the First Fleet is that sort of saber-rattler."
"Understandable. There are those in the Hierarchy who view humanity as a rising threat."
"Yes, I'm aware of those." Shepard had encountered that opinion both often and recently enough to take note. "Still, I am glad that Wrex gave me a reason to get off this station as fast as possible. I think I will enjoy making some hired guns rue the day they were born more than being here on Armistice Day."
Nihlus chuckled, "I think on that we will agree."
"First though, I need to get my gear replaced. I checked my rifle, the rail insulation is in pieces, and there is no fixing that. Well… there is, but might as well get a new rifle, about the same costs, and the effect will be the same."
"Do you want to look at the Spectre requisition catalogues?" Nihlus asked. "I have last month's on my omni-tool. I will order anything you want, no questions asked."
"It can't hurt to look. Maybe I can get some after-market options. I'm a bit of a snob when it comes to my gear."
"The best always are, so that does not surprise me." Nihlus replied. "How about a bit of a this-for-that. Have breakfast with me in the hotel restaurant, and we can look at the catalogue over that."
Shepard paused to weigh her options, a restaurant was hardly the ideal place to talk shop, but when did Nihlus ever ask for anything of this sort? She could not be bothered to remember the last time, and she could not come up with a reason to tell him no. "Sure. Just… give me five minutes to finish up here."
"Alright, no problem."
The message from Kaidan regarding the Normandy's docking location arrived three hours later, and it was another hour after that before Shepard even saw her ship. The station's control staff was unusually busy with everything happening. More than the usual amount of civilian, cargo, and even military traffic was coming in.
She had just stepped past the Normandy's inner airlock door when she heard a creak from her left.
"Welcome back, Commander. Spectre." Joker called from his seat in the cockpit.
"Thanks, Joker. Good to be back."
"Commander," Kaidan's greeted quietly as he approached from the direction of the CIC, stopping at the last bulkhead to snap a salute, "The Normandy is yours once again."
"At ease. And thanks." Shepard replied. "Did Wrex arrive?"
Kaidan instantly dropped the formalities. "Yes, about ten minutes ago." Kaidan replied. "Do you need any help with your things?"
"Not particularly. But thanks, Kaidan."
"Alright." The lieutenant nodded.
"As you were, lieutenant," Shepard added as she moved past him. Her armor needed to go straight into the recycler, but she could not do it right now. The recycler compacted and jettisoned what it deemed trash into space, but it would not be able to do that while the Normandy was docked on the Citadel. She would have to wait until they were in the nebula or something. As for her rifle, she would probably find a nice rack for it in her quarters. She could not quite bring herself to throw it away, even if it would never fire again.
"You do not want him to see the state of your armor, do you?" Nihlus rumbled, almost right against her ear, so that no one on the CIC would hear him.
"I'm that obvious?" Shepard asked as she called the elevator.
"I know you do not like making people worry."
"What's done is done. That's all."
Nihlus nodded, and that was the end of that conversation. From the elevator they went their separate ways. Nihlus exited on the deck three and Shepard took it down to the Shuttle Bay. She had expected Wrex to be in his corner; he had not given her the details on the location of Tonn Actus' base, however, the krogan was nowhere to be seen. Instead she was surprised to see Legion at the gear bench, which was draped over with a thick black protective tarp. The geth was welding something together with a small hand-held precision tool. Where organics would have had to wear goggles at least, Legion had merely narrowed their optic sensor lamp to a pin-point.
They must have also heard the elevator door open as they shifted around, blocking her view angle on the welding with their body. "Shepard-Commander, please do not come closer. We are currently in the process of welding," The geth announced.
"I can see that, Legion, and good morning."
They looked back over their shoulder, iris widening to its normal configuration. "Welcome back Shepard-Commander, also good morning. We apologize. We deemed it necessary to issue a hazard warning prior to customary greetings."
"I appreciate the concern." Shepard smiled. Sometimes the geth could be the most awkwardly adorable yet thoughtful being she had ever met. She was curious about the project, but then Legion turned back around and the sparks started flying again, and she decided to wait.
One glance had been enough to tell her that it was some sort of metal armature, quite possibly the innermost frame of a collapsible weapon. The table over was laid out with immaculately cut and arranged metal pieces, many of them quite tiny, waiting to be welded on. It surprised her more that Legion would build a weapon from scratch. However that already told her something about what they were building.
Most conventional weapons were mass produced, with the cores being welded by computer-controlled machines. Yet the models they assembled were known, obtainable, and relatively common. Legion would not replicate a weapon from scratch if they could buy one. They were building something that could not be bought. Shepard would bet it was something of a uniquely Geth design.
She was officially curious, but could not ask, so she moved toward her locker, putting Legion behind her back. She knew that if she asked, the geth would baffle her with technical specifications just to be cryptic. What she had seen of the frame, had looked quite robust, probably a rifle. There was yet no way to tell apart if it would be an assault rifle or a sniper rifle, but given that legion used both, it could be either. She would put her money on the sniper rifle though, because Legion's current was over-powered. It could punch through a vehicle's armor, so when it hit an unprotected softer target, it created an excessive amount of gore. Legion was nothing if not oddly considerate. Maybe they were building a less powerful version to use on softer targets? Only time would tell for sure.
Shepard opened her mobile locker and then her ship's armory locker and reached into the former to withdraw Sin and Dex. She had just put them into the armory locker when Legion's peculiar light-tipped shadow slid up along the floor right next to her.
"Shepard-Commander, your armor is damaged beyond repair."
Shepard sighed, why did she even for a second think that Legion would be different? This was the geth who seemed to linger in the shadows, watching over her. They had done so from day one, even disobeying orders when she took them to the Cerberus labs. She would have thought it adorable, if she was not a little bit annoyed right then. "Yes, but don't go telling everyone about it. Things on Taetrus got a little… complicated."
The geth chattered as if the various runtimes conversed among themselves, and yet their tone still managed to sound surprised. Then suddenly the geth reached into the mobile locker and picked up Vincent. Shepard opened her mouth to protest but they tipped their head to the side in that curious look they sometimes got when they were analyzing. The chattering became a background buzz, low and indistinct. Shepard watched as the iris of their optical sensors worked, narrowing down, rotating. She chose to observe their behavior over reprimanding them.
"Our scan has detected irreparable damage to this weapon as well."
"Well yes." Shepard replied automatically, somewhat numbly. Legion had been scanning the weapon?
Legion placed the weapon back, as gingerly as if any more bumps would cause it disintegrate. "Spectre-Kryik alone is unable to assure your safety."
Shepard felt her jaw loosen; did Legion really just say that? "Legion, you do not know what happened to make that assumption."
"We apologize. We based our calculations on probabilities, using Shepard-Commander's previous performance standards." The geth bowed their head.
Shepard's kept her expression intentionally blank, she would not grimace, no matter how much that seemed to be appropriate reaction right then. Legion was right, but it was their blunt way of making the statement that was off-putting. Legion observed from the results alone that something had happened which went beyond what she and Nihlus could handle on their own. Shepard could even see their next leap of logic, assuming she understood the process of their thinking correctly. The leap would be based on previous observations of her normal methods. Sure she tended to get a little roughed up, hazard of the profession, but this time the damage to her gear was excessive. Ergo something put her off her usual norms, and that something could only be Nihlus.
There was no way for Legion to know the details, though, and Shepard was not about to enlighten them. Nihlus was right; she did not want anyone to worry. More so, she did not want people to know that Nihlus had outright contributed to the situation. "Legion, I appreciate your concern… but it was complicated. Let's leave it at that. You too, EDI, I know you are listening. I don't want this getting out, alright?"
"Acknowledged."
"As you wish, Commander." EDI replied.
Legion chattered again, quite loudly this time.
"Alright, Legion. We will do that." EDI replied. "Commander, Legion initially wished to tell you we made progress with the data acquired on Solcrum. We had time to run calculations while the Normandy was on Arcturus Station. We wish to share our findings with you, at your convenience."
Legion had turned around and walked off, going back to their welding.
Shepard was not the least bit surprised to see that EDI learned to understand the peculiar chattering that all geth seemed capable of producing. Was the term 'language' appropriate for it? Was there speech as one would think it? Or did they exchange data via some other method? Shepard wondered, but now was not really the time to ask. "Great, but I do have something else that needs to be done before that. EDI, could you remind me again when I get to the OD?"
"Of course, Commander." EDI replied.
"Thanks. Oh and Legion, I want you up there for that as well."
"Acknowledged," the geth replied, without looking up from their work.
She turned back to her mobile locker and sighed; there was nothing else to be said. Then and there she knew how hard it would be to keep the extent of her injuries a secret. The Normandy was too small a ship, with too close a crew, and some were only too protective at that. Yet she needed to keep it. She had every reason to fear what would happen should Garrus find out with Nihlus in the same room. Garrus was intelligent and very observant; he would put two and two together. He also tended to act like an overprotective older brother, and Nihlus' pride would not allow him take the forthcoming lecture sitting down. It would end up to be that thing they got into a serious argument about. Shepard did not want it to happen, as far as she was concerned, it was not worth it. She would have to navigate that mine-field very carefully.
In the meantime, she needed to find Wrex and get the coordinates from him, order her new gear, and then have that talk with Legion and EDI. Her agenda was packed, and it was not even noon.
It was another half hour before Shepard could get to work, and as it was, she did not have to look for Wrex for very long. She had just stepped out of the elevator and onto the CIC, intending to get to the OD and have EDI call Wrex up, but there he was, standing by the elevator as if nothing at all was wrong, and he merely enjoyed hanging out up on the CIC. What surprised Shepard more was that Tali was with him, her fingers pecking away at her omni-tool. She must have heard the elevator door open, because with one last tap at her tool, she turned it off and looked up. "Welcome home, Commander."
"Thanks Tali." Shepard spared the girl a smile. Tali was about the only person who would say 'welcome home' rather than 'welcome back'. To Tali, the Normandy was a roaming house, and not just a ship.
One glance around the CIC told her that the monitor crew was trying to keep an ear or eye on the situation, as surreptitiously as they could. Shepard grinned; they really did not weather boredom well, did they? Not that she would blame them, half their time was monitoring the ship's systems, and even then most of the job was also functionally supervised and taken over by EDI, as she had access to every sensor aboard, internal and external. If something was wrong, Shepard would find out from EDI nearly instantaneously.
"Come into the OD. We'll talk." She said, and then turned toward the room. Wrex's slow thundering footsteps followed behind her, and compared to him, Tali might as well have been a ninja, one with the shadows.
Once past the door, Shepard was mildly surprised to note that Nihlus was not lounging on the couch.
No sooner had the OD's door closed that Wrex cleared his throat. "Shepard, I want this done my way. I know you like to bring the turians along, but I do not want them there."
Shepard stopped halfway to the couch and glanced back at the krogan. Someone else might have snapped that those sorts of decisions were not in Wrex' pay grade, but Shepard was not that someone. Wrex wanting to keep Nihlus and Garrus out of the situation was as predictable as taxation. His prejudice was rearing the ugliest of its heads, and there was no going around it. This whole situation had everything to do with what the Hierarchy had at least allowed to happen, if they had not condoned it outright.
Shepard was not surprised that the Hierarchy had its fair share of profiteers. Every war, no matter how justified and noble outwardly, spawned those. Given that Wrex saw their people as guilty, he clearly did not want to feel like he owed them something, especially if that something was a favor for helping him retrieve what was already technically his. Could she deny him? Maybe, but he would remember it. There was nothing to win in souring their working relationship over this. She would have to acquiesce to his demands. "Alright."
Wrex nodded curtly, and turned his head to glance at Tali. "Also, I want Tali's expertise in this."
Tali shifted her weight from foot to foot, betraying her nervousness. "Wrex thinks this Tonn Actus might have contacts that could lead him to more of his people's artifacts."
"Makes sense," Shepard replied.
"Tali is smart. Most of all, I can trust her. The Quarians value loyalty to one's own almost as we do."
"Well, you can say that," Tali said. "Though our displays of affection to our kin are not… you know… combative."
"True… and I like that; combative. An understatement, but…" Wrex trailed off, chuckling.
Tali said absolutely nothing to that, probably because she did not want to turn Wrex' odd amusement to something else entirely. Shepard could not say anything to that either, and for the same reason. From where she stood, it looked liked he had everything figured out. It made sense; this was his deeply-personal brain-child after all. How many centuries was this in the making? Wrex had clearly been doing the leg-work for a while, and only now did it bear fruit. She would ask later, maybe once everything was said and done. Wrex never talked about himself much, so maybe success would get him in the mood for it afterward.
"And since this is my idea, I know my responsibilities. If anyone so much as nicks a decorative stitch on her suit, I will break their bones." Wrex added.
"Hey! I can protect myself! I built a fully functional combat drone while we were on Arcturus Station. I'll show you what my Chatika vas Paus can do!"
Shepard could not help but smile, "Easy. I know you can give them quite a bit of hell, Tali. We also know how much Wrex loves picking a fight."
Wrex smiled widely, "Of course I do, but I don't expect Actus' goons to be good enough for it to be fun."
"Perhaps they would have been, if we went against them just the three of us. However I intend to change the math a little." Shepard replied. Truthfully she did not want to do a trial run in her new gear with just three people. There was always the opportunity for bugs in the system to come out the proverbial woodwork. "We will bring the marines along too." She figured more humans would be acceptable. She was not going to risk the mission by bringing Legion. Putting Tali and Legion in the same unit was a risk, because the quarian would probably obstinately refuse to work with the geth.
Wrex leveled one of his piercing stares at her, but Shepard stared back without blinking. This was her way of standing ground; the krogan would have to give some if he intended to take. The staring contest lasted for a good ten seconds, but finally Wrex shifted his weight and looked away.
"Fine. As long as it is the marines. Could probably use Williams' skills." Wrex replied. "No offence Shepard, your aim is precise, but I've seen Williams mow down two geth with one clip. Not a bullet wasted."
That was a krogan concession speech if there ever was such a thing. "Of course." Shepard grinned. "But if you want to praise ammo efficiency, you should know the sniper motto… One shot. One kill."
"One clip too," Wrex rumbled, not the least bit impressed. "That Mantis of yours consumes clips fast."
Shepard opened her mouth to retort, but realized too late that she had nothing to say to that. Wrex had backed her into the corner, and if his grin was any indication, he knew it too. There was just one thing he did not know. With Vincent out of commission, the point might become moot too. The Mantis prioritized stopping power and ammo versatility. Other rifles sacrificed some kinetic energy for more efficient heat management. She could look into various models and see if she could find something that would give her more shots per thermal clip while still maintaining exceptional stopping power and versatility. "Touché, Wrex."
His grin only got wider, flashing rows of teeth.
"This is where you need a good combat drone. They go hiding in some corner? A combat drone flushes them out, and then you can shoot them. Simple." Tali argued, not to be left out.
"Allies help too," Shepard noted. "But we are going off track here. I will say this up front; there will be a slight delay on this operation. Some of my gear was damaged on Taetrus and I need replacements. Alliance requisitions are pretty good, and me being a Spectre in training puts me somewhat higher on the list of priorities, but it could still take a day or two, Terran time."
"That's fine. Actus does not know I'm coming for him." Wrex replied.
"Are you alright, Commander?" Tali asked.
"I am fine, Tali. Nothing I couldn't handle." If she could not handle it, she would not be there talking about it right now. Still, boiling it down like that was being more dishonest than she cared to be, but it had to be done, she did not want everyone on the Normandy treating her like she would break. Yes the situation on Taetrus got a little dicey, just the fact that she had to use the Last Chance was indicative, but Shepard also did not want everyone looking at Nihlus and seeing the one on whose watch she almost died. Shepard did not wish to be cause of that. The whole situation already complicated his life enough; there was no need to make it worse.
"Sounds like you had a good fight. If you came out of it with gear damaged, I assume they did not come out of it at all?" Wrex wondered.
"No they did not." Shepard replied.
"Good. Alright, we have a plan. That's all I needed. I'll go and give Moreau the coordinates."
"Sure." Shepard knew a veiled excuse to leave when she heard one.
The krogan turned around and made for the door.
"Well… I think I will go and verify the programming on my drone one more time. It can't hurt." Tali said.
Shepard nodded. Tali was one of the only people on board who was never comfortable on the CIC. "This job with Wrex will be a good trial run. Nothing too complicated."
"Yes, it will be good to figure out the kinks."
"Alright." Shepard was not the sort of gear-head who relied on drones or any such fancy gadgetry, so her experience in the matter was limited. Bluntly put, she would not know the first thing about programming a combat drone.
"Excuse me, Commander."
"Of course," Shepard replied.
Tali turned and left the room, her steps hurried but not outright running. Soon Shepard was left alone in the empty OD. "EDI, I remember our agreement by the way." She said calmly.
"Understood. Do you wish me to call Legion up now?" EDI asked.
"Please do." Shepard replied. He thinking was that she might as well get that out of the way now. She was all for checking off things off her to-do list as efficiently as possible. Delay did not benefit anyone, even if they were entirely inevitable.
"Right away, Commander." EDI replied calmly.
While EDI did that, Shepard pondered what to do after this. She still had two more things on her list. She needed to sit down and order her new gear, and she had to go and see Doctor Chakwas to giv her the medical information she got from her Taetrian doctors. Both of those tasks could prove to be quite time-consuming, therein the problem.
The OD door opened a couple minutes later and Legion stepped into the room. "Shepard-Commander." They greeted.
"Come on in, Legion." Shepard replied as she moved to sit on the couch. "So what is it that you and EDI have been up to?" There was no need for small talk with the AIs.
Legion moved deeper into the room, allowing Shepard to see the splotches of charring on their otherwise glimmering brushed-metal finish. The geth had no yet cleaned up after the welding. "Commander, you indicated that you wished to make an attempt to triangulate the god-king's location based on data collected on Eden Prime, Daiwi, and Solcrum," they began.
"Yes, I remember that…" There had always been was just one more thing that kept her from actually getting down to it. As it was often the case, when an enemy was trounced once, and then went to ground, some were perfectly happy to go on about their business, as long as said enemy remained under their rock. Shepard was somewhat guilty of that thinking, but only because her crew came first.
However, it seemed like EDI and Legion had noticed the delays and decided to take up the task on their own. Shepard knew why, being AIs, they could not enjoy crew vacations as much as said crew. There would have been a serious situation if Legion had decided to take a stroll across Arcturus Station. The media had done a good enough job after Eden Prime to broadcast that the geth all had one obvious identifying feature, a lamp for a face.
The geth approached the coffee table and reached down to turn on the small holographic projector mounted into it. Then they stepped back and brought up their omni-tool. In a matter of moments Shepard was looking at a relatively small projection of the Milky Way galaxy, with faint colored lines that indicated the major political borders of the galaxy. A second later, the locations of Eden Prime, Daiwi, and Solcrum appeared as highlighted bright dots. Then a bright glowing blue ring appeared, with its center on the Exodus Cluster and Eden Prime, along the Orion spur the Milky Way. "The blue circle represents the perimeter at which the god-king would have had to be, in order to have a two point nine nine five Terran second of signal lag on Eden Prime." Legion explained.
Shepard hummed thoughtfully. Harbinger was hiding somewhere along that blue line. The problem was the circle's sheer size. It encircled nearly the entirety of Alliance space, parts of Council space, into Hierarchy space, Hegemony space, a piece of the core, a sliver of the Attican Traverse, and out into intergalactic dark space. Shepard could not be happy with the implications of that. Looking at the size of the circle she had a few questions she wanted to ask, but she would wait until Legion was done.
Legion tapped at their omni-tool again and a second, bright green circle appeared. "Two point eight nine three Terran seconds from Daiwi." Legion explained.
Daiwi's cluster was just off the rim-side of the Perseus arm out where it still ran along the galaxy's rim before the core's gravity caused it to turn and spiral inward. The new circle did not hit Council or Hierarchy space, but it still grazed Hegemony space, and now went deeper into the Attican Traverse while just grazing the Terminus.
Shepard hummed when she was the single point where the two circles overlapped. Legion had highlighted and labeled it with a white dot, because a projection this size could not be clear. The dot's base was just off the rim-side of the Near 3kpc Arm, but still within the Five Kiloparsec Ring of the core. Shepard did not care for the message between those lines on the wall either.
Legion took her hum as a sign to go on, and tapped at their tool one last time. A third, bright red circle appeared, "Two point seven six nine Terran seconds from Solcrum."
The Armstrong Nebula was up along the same arm as the small Daeva Cluster, home to Daiwi, and the third circle overlapped with the first two on the same spot within the Five Kiloparsec Ring, sealing the deal. "I appreciate the dramatic build up," Shepard mumbled, she was otherwise almost numb with this bomb-drop, "but I would've appreciated being told you had something from the start."
"Our apologizes, Shepard-Commander. We calculated you would want to see the data one component at a time."
"Commander, the signal could be coming from a space of around a hundred light-years within the Five Kiloparsec Ring. We have a rough estimation, not definitive coordinates. I would not use the term 'something' for this." EDI explained. "I believe this is… a guess… at best."
"A hundred light-years is a vast improvement on 'anywhere in the galaxy', but yes… it really isn't a set location." Shepard replied.
Her questions multiplied alarmingly rapidly. First, why was this range so big? The control signal was essentially electromagnetic waves, right? Even if it was piggybacked on the buoy network, distance would quickly amount to time. At less than three seconds the distance ought to have been much smaller, within the clusters where the Heretics attacked. That is, Shepard hummed, unless of course the Heretics were using some other method of boosting the signal. What was it? Just another question piling up on the list.
If she set the first thinking direction aside, she encountered the second. If the Heretics were indeed within the Five Kiloparsec Ring… how did they get there? And that segued nicely into the question of how were they to follow them? Were there relays in there? Once there, this implied the Heretics had the technology to maintain an installation in that nightmarish region. What would it take? Could the Normandy even destroy it? Would even the Thanix be enough?
Between all those, Shepard thought this was getting closer to the confirmation of her pet theory. This hinted that Harbinger indeed had a fifty thousand year old map of the galaxy. It saw the galaxy as the Protheans would have seen it, including the complete relay network, with all the charted major relays, and the hundreds if not thousands secondary and tertiary relays that daisy-chained into regions of space off the major lanes.
The existence of such a complex network would have been absolutely necessary if the Protheans wanted to maintain their pan-galactic empire. All roads led to Rome for a reason. The Protheans were the galaxy's Romans, and the relays were the roads which facilitated communication, trade, and troop movement when necessary. The Protheans had a pan-galactic empire, a fact that was not in question, so Shepard would bet there had to be more dormant relays than the Council reckoned. The Protheans also had advanced technology, so maybe they had a way of stabilizing structures within the Five Kiloparsec Ring. All that put Harbinger hiding in there firmly within the realm of plausible. She could not say that EDI and Legion were patently wrong in their math.
"The others are definitely going to need to see this," Shepard announced as she sat up straight. Her agenda was going to get even more packed now. One more thing to push back ordering parts and seeing Doctor Chakwas.
Author Notes: Given that this is a "kitchen sink" episode, meant to nudge along already-running plot lines; its shocking how hard to it was to write. The problem was in that I really had to sit down and work out what I was doing, in great detail. The final scene is just the tip of an iceberg. And oh yes, if you think I'm amalgamating the Heretics with the Collectors, that's exactly what I'm doing. With this framework in place, I can perhaps use the Feros plot line for something, and maybe intro a few more characters. I shan't spoil what I'm up to.
General Notes:
Wrex's Arc – In canon we are told Wrex went from Shepard's crew in ME1 to leader of Clan Urdnot in ME2 in part because of his involvement against Saren. Obviously that cannot happen in this canon, so I'm building it up differently, involving my head-canons for Krogan culture and politics. I'm modeling things on somewhat medieval principles. To say that after the Krogan Rebellions, they lapsed into the "futuristic" Dark Ages. One of my university professors actually joked about it, in saying that if we ever experience the nuclear apocalypse, the medieval systems would come back with a vengeance, so there's the reason why we ought to study the medieval period, so we know how to get by. Dark humor aside… that way of putting it stuck with me.
Chapter Notes:
Galactic Arm Names – I use the actual scientific names for the arms and spurs of the Milky Way, even as I use a certain well labeled map of the ME canon for location names. It was a bit tricky to try and present the info-graphic Legion put together into words, but it had to be done. For the record, The Local Cluster (and hence Earth) is also on the Orion Spur, which is a thinner, less dense arm of our galaxy. The Orion spur is between the stretch of the Perseus arm (rim-side) and the Sagittarius Arm (core-side).