Three and a half months. That is how long we spent hunting for the Shells of several Saboteurs with the elcor Saboteurs at the top of the list. All we have to show for it, though, is a big fat question mark over a few high profile individuals, and that only came about because the elcor embassy said these people were acting strange. And even then, we couldn't trust that to be correct if Julian's pattern of how the Saboteurs worked is correct. He said he may have found the other asari Saboteur, but they were deep in the ranks of the Commandos and the army, too deep to get close and confirm. He also refused to give a name to stop me chasing after them. Clever bastard.
The pattern he noticed? Well, aside from things like the STG, the Council, C-Sec, the Spectres and the Shadow Broker, the two Saboteurs in a species straddled the politics and military; a diplomat Saboteur and a military Saboteur. Alea was high in the asari political sphere, so she ranked as the diplomat of the asari while this other Saboteur Julian hunted sat inside the military. He hinted the pattern was consistent with the elcor too, which was why everything from the elcor government, no every government, sat under a pile of salt until we were certain we had killed the Saboteurs of that species. Even then, we had to worry about the potential for indoctrinated servants too. Julian's resistance to give me unconfirmed information frustrated me to no end though, but his reasoning made sense. His baby sister threw herself onto battlefields all the time now, and to be on the front line of the Saboteur war and the last thing a brother needs to hear. If he got any reports that his sister asked the right questions to the right people and instigated a firefight, he'd go into mental meltdown. Part of me wished he would trust me to use my head in the matter, the other part liked it like this because it wound him up and stabbed him where it hurt for a change. After everything I had been through to get here, he didn't trust me not to learn common sense!
But other than that, what had we learned? Well, we knew every single Reaper name associated to a Saboteur. Julian, as the Enforcer, had these names engraved into his mind and nothing could shake them free. The downside was, that without his Reaper's co-operation, there was no way he'd be able to track down the Shells for these Reapers or even associate them to a species. That he placed as many as he did before Palalrian stopped him is incredible. The other troublesome piece of missing information was the Shell names. Palalrian knew them, as did Nyryntha, but both had withheld this information from Julian and I. Julian was most frustrated since learning these names and faces is his job so he could fulfil his duty. Outside of the knowledge we had gleamed from Julian and his team, we made our own little discoveries.
We discovered the final C-Sec Saboteur is still active, more so now with Saria gone. The name had continued to evade us but they were fighting to overcome the setback of being forced to work alone in their mission. We heard reports of strange dreams from Satrino, telling me that the turnover to prevent indoctrination had skyrocketed in terms of the number of troops needed. They hadn't pin-pointed a source, or even which Citadel Wing or C-Sec office the Saboteur was in yet. The turians also raised their voices in concern. The Palaven Shield, a vast network of cannons and fleets designed to protect the planet from invaders, had experienced glitches despite no reports of any updates or work to the software, hardware or personnel involved. These glitches weren't significant, a slight misalignment here, a dodgy artillery timer there, but it was enough to cause alarm. We met with several representatives of the races during our shore leave at Christmas; the Primarch was one people. My shoulders shuddered at the memories, drilling into each alien in the room how important it was to watch for the tiniest irregularity in any of their systems, including continued strange dreams and headaches and perhaps voices, rapid climb of the ranks, failures in security or other military systems. It seems like the Primarch took my words on board. He sent me a personal message that he started an investigation into a possible diplomat with as much caution as they could. That and keeping them as far as they could from him for as long as possible seemed like a good plan.
Also during that visit, I tore the research lab on the Citadel to pieces. The remains of Sovereign sent chills down my spine even thinking of them now. Much to the Council's displeasure, they followed through on my demands that staff take at least a month break from work, 2 months if they worked on the wreckage over long periods of time. It threw their wages through the roof but a simple reminder of why they 'convinced' me into accepting my captains' role again silenced any further conflict. Julian also sent over some new tech to protect people from indoctrination; better shielding designed for indoctrination prevention. At least the Council couldn't say we didn't care!
The datapad landed on the desk with a clatter, grumbling over the crumbs that the intel team had dug up from the data. Too many possibilities and not enough concrete evidence. The fear of the Council jumping on my ass for false identification terrified me more than anything else. After that little meeting – which lasted 4 hours, I might add – the Council made sure their displeasure was apparent, that my antics and disappearing without a word. Despite telling them we had been kidnapped and held against our will, they did not shift from this stance. Everyone also kept their word and said nothing about Julian's connection to me, thank the Gods. As far as the Council knew, the free Saboteur had agreed to work with us to put an end to the Saboteurs for good. For now, they forced me to checking in once every week instead of every two weeks now, which only screwed up my report writing. How was I going to put it off now?!
With a huff, my arms shoved me away from the desk, wandering out of the bedroom. My eyes skimmed past Gideon's door as it passed. Over the past few weeks, his new hobby had consumed him, keeping him quiet. Or maybe less clingy would be the right term. He was a rare sight in the bridge now and when he did, he knew who he wanted to speak to. He looked brighter since the complaining had cut by more than half to a far more reasonable level. A normal parent would worry about such a sharp turn in personality, but after seeing his room filled with charts and wiring and computer related equipment and books, he had taken this hobby to heart. Maybe he hoped to make a living from it at some point. Better speak to Shayan about what potential those skills he was learning. He showed me a program he was working on, kind of like a 20 questions style game which connected to the extranet to pick a random object or person from the 'Wikipedia' page. The first one for me was the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Pride swelled in my chest at the thought – not the damn prince but of Gideon's achievement – of Gideon finding something that resonated with him, something that would help him. And me when I'm old and crooked and can't work technology any more.
Back down in the bridge, my weight shuffled into the captain's chair, losing myself in my thoughts. If we killed Saboteurs at 1 every 3-4 months, we would never kill enough of them before the Reapers got here. They were only a few years away, not a decade. My hands rubbed my face, dread filling me. We had to skill these Saboteurs before they got here. If they were still here, who knew what damage they could do with their big brothers and sisters around them to help. And then after we kicked the Reapers up the ass then… what to do with me? Would Nyryntha still be alive if I was? Could… Would Julian and I need to end our lives to free the galaxy from the Reapers?
"Are you alright, Captain?" A quiet voice asked. My eyes fluttered, startled as they found Shayan, shuffling beside me. A small smile flitted over my lips.
"Just thinking about the end game," I said, stretching. Shayan tilted his head to the side.
"End game? In what sense?" he asked.
"What to do with me after we've kicked the Reapers' ass," I said with a shrug. Shayan jumped.
"C-Captain, you a-aren't thinking-" he blustered. A frown snapped my lips down.
"Yes, I am," I grumbled. Shayan quivered before me, an argument on his tongue. "All Saboteurs must die. All of them. I am not excluded from that," I said.
"B-But what would we do without you?" Shayan asked. My frown eased.
"Shayan, you are assuming they'll still need us after all this is said and done. I created this team to hunt and destroy Saboteurs. If they are all dead, what will they use us for?" I asked.
"We could always go back to merc work? Or maybe the Council c-could reassign us? The galaxy is a huge and messy place after all…" Shayan said. My gaze diverted, plans for the future bustling through my mind. It burned like an ache, a sense of longing growing that would never silence.
"Everyone would need RIT for the rest of their lives, Shayan. Who's to say after 20 years it'll still work? What if I do something and Nyryntha wins? Even if we destroy her Reaper, there is a chance she'll survive inside me. I cannot risk that, Shayan," I said, rubbing my eyes to clear the stinging emotions. "That's for a later time, though. We still have about 40 Saboteurs between then and now," I said with a small smile. Shayan shuffled, disquiet.
"And why is everyone so doom and gloom in here, huh?" Indira asked, bounding over like an excited puppy.
"Nothing much, just considering the future," I said. Indira raised a brow, turning to Shayan.
"She's thinking about killing herself after we win the war and destroy all the other Saboteurs," Shayan said, voice low and quiet.
"Dellion!" Indira snapped. My glare returned full force.
"Piss off," I grumbled. "It was a thought! We need not decide anything until after this war!"
"No! No more thoughts like that! Not now, never! Or I'll tell your big brother and you can deal with him!" Indira threatened, wagging a finger like a scolding mother. It set my teeth one edge.
"He'd agree with me!" I snapped.
"Would not!" Indira chimed.
"Would to!" I snarled.
"Would not!" Indira folded her arms.
"Would-! …I am not arguing with you over this," I growled. "End of discussion!"
"Good! Then we can all enjoy watching you grow old!" Indira said before marching away.
"Fuck you!" I snapped. Indira waved as she skipped up towards the cockpit.
My glare didn't let up as the aliens abandoned me to my duties. Dammit, what happened to my body was my decision and no one else's! My chair wheeled around to face the rear, discontent with the lacking view before us. The darkness of space helped to chill my anger, the distant nebulas faint flecks of colour. The Starquake banked to avoid a ring system from a nearby planet, decorating the port side cameras with a spectacular view. My temper eased, pain returning as my mind memorised these moments. Peace in an unknown system of little importance, how many would fly through this space and see these sights? My head shook, glancing to the monitors beside me, updating as new resources pinged. Metals and ezzo for the upcoming war with the Reapers, maybe even some Saboteur signs. The blue planet ring system didn't have Saturn's flare or allure, the rings smaller and thinner. A slow exhale expelled the last of the anger, lost in the stars and beauty.
Something pale caught the burning sunlight, a brief glitter that sparkled in and out of sight. My eyes narrowed, following the sparkle as it meandered around a meteor belt. A starship way out here in the middle of nowhere, far from any relay. At this distance, the make and model were nothing more than a point of light, impossible to see. My eyes pointed down to the radar, looking for a call sign to gauge the hazard of this stranger. We hadn't seen another ship in the area for weeks, floating through quiet sections of space until we shifted through everything and keeping the Constellation and Council of my ass. My heart pumped a lump into my throat. The scanners showed nothing within the heliosphere. There was no ship there. My eyes drifted back to the camera screens, fighting to find…
"Lanster, head towards that red gas giant on the port side and circle around the sun to return this way please," I ordered.
"Uh, sure, no problem? Why though, it seems inefficient…" Lanster said, trailing off. While the door to the cockpit lay open, it saved shouting.
"I think we're being followed," I said. The air in the bridge altered, electrifying. A pin drop would echo in the din.
"There's nothing on the scanners, Captain…" Lanster added.
"It's hiding its emissions. I can see it clear as day on the rear cameras," I said, eyes pinned to the silver bullet in the distance. There was a brief pause while Lanster did a visual check himself.
"Shit, so there is. Alright, I'll do a scanning manoeuvre around a few plants. If they are following us, they'll come to this side of the system. There is nothing of value over here. It also has to come through some not so safe space, lots of weird gravity due to the binary planets here," Lanster informed, the activity in the cockpit skyrocketing. My fingers tapped on the arm of the chair as the Starquake banked around a few planets, twisting through a pair of binary planets to head towards a large gas giant nearby. The whole ship rattled from the gravity anomalies. The ship behind us, keeping a 'safe' distance, followed.
"Yes, it is following us. Even flew between the binary to keep up with us. Getting a clearer image for you now, Captain," Mari said.
My heart thundered as the rear cameras zoomed in on the ship. As it came around a moon, the silver, black and orange ship glided towards the red gas giant. The ship branded the name clear as day on both flanks; NORMANDY. My throat tightened, air seized in my chest. Normandy, SR… 2 Normandy? Had someone rebuild the Normandy? It looked… similar. Whoever redid her ramped up the size to the point the engines no longer dwarfed it but it still looked like the same ship. What bastard would rebuild her? She wasn't flying Alliance colours to boot! An orange symbol decorated the plates sticking out from the bow, a stretched out hexagon.
"Cerberus!" Shayan cried. My jaw set at the word, at the connection. Was this part of the Illusive Man's plan? Send a ship after me to force me to help him?! A ship called the Normandy of all things, a ship that once belonged to a man who tormented me during my time on that bloody ship?!
"I want a planet or moon between the Starquake and this ship. Disengage the rotary and prepare for combat!" I snapped in the quiet. Sirens bleated out, shattering the lazy afternoon. On my feet, my muscles twitched as adrenaline soaked them. My eyes fixed to the pursuer until the red gas giant hid them. The rotary teased itself apart.
"What's going on?" Val asked, sprinting into the room as he cried over the sirens.
"We're being followed. Cerberus frigate," I said. Val snapped his mandibles together.
"You should have just hung up on the bastard as soon as you saw him," he hissed.
"I didn't even know who Cerberus was until he called! How was I to know?" I snapped. Val flared his mandibles for a second before sighing.
"We'll sit you down and teach you who to avoid for the future. Let's deal with this frigate," Val promised. His words set my stomach into a twist, dread forming as a lecture awaited me. The engines powered back up.
We blasted out from around the planet, gunning for them as several warning shots swung towards them. In a heartbeat, the Normandy swerved, avoiding the shells as its engines roared, turning to pursue us. The Starquake banked around the asteroid belt, searching for a good place to flip around and fire more shells at the ship. The Normandy was a nippy little thing, able to keep up with us despite two less engines. Our larger size played against. The cat and mouse chase continued for three minutes. We barrelled around ring systems and asteroids, but something didn't feel right. My battle lust eased as the chase played out.
"Why aren't they firing at us? They have a perfect shot," I asked. Val frowned beside me.
"Maybe they're trying to instigate a false sense of security? Maybe they want… diplomacy?" he gagged on the word. The words tumbled through my head like a washing machine, watching Lanster spiral through the ring system to slow down the smaller ship.
"Why would they want to damage us if they want our help…?" I murmured. Val glanced down at me. "We have a habitual world here, yes?"
"Yeah, small garden world that belongs to the turians. Just a small colony there," Val said.
"Alright… let's see if it is dialogue they want," I said. "Lanster, go to that turian planet, get us somewhere nice and clear, away from the colony itself. We're going on foot to have a little chat," I ordered.
"Aye, aye, Captain… I… I don't recommend it but aye, aye," Lanster answered. His words lifted my lips.
"Noted, Lanster," I said, turning towards the elevator to suit up. Val marched on my heels.
"Dell, I do not think this is a good idea. Cerberus are known for their dirty tactics. This could be a trap!" Val pressed in the privacy of the elevator. My gaze locked ahead, refusing to look at the more experienced turian.
"The Starquake will hover overhead, if they try anything we'll unleash every bit of firepower we have. We can have the shuttles out," I said. "The Illusive Man may want me alive, he seems to think we have something he wants. Let's see what he wants," I said, striding out towards my room. Gideon poked his head out of his room, hair upheaved from all the action
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Slight conflict. We're dealing with it," I assured. Val snapped his mandibles before diving into his room to suit up.
By the time my armour and helmet clicked on, Val had beaten me to the cargo hold to have a team prepared for the potential firefight. Everyone put on their helmets. We didn't want to get sniped and lose our heads. The Starquake still swung as Lanster got us to our location. Mat'al pressed the Paladin and Locust into my hands. They snapped to my hips with a welcome click. We braced as Lanster twisted and flipped the Starquake, sending my stomach to my head and then into the wall in front of me as he slammed on the brakes, my Mag-Boots the only thing keeping me upright. The cargo door lowered with a rush of wind. With Val, Mat'al and Indira flanking me, my mag-boots rocked my hips as they held me against the gale howling up the ramp. The Normandy hovered before us, still backing off from a near crash at our sudden stop, as if unsure as to our plans.
My hand shielded my eyes from the low sun once at the edge of the ramp. An arm straightened, pointing to the ground with my thumb, eyes on the Normandy. The Starquake lowered towards the ground, allowing me and my team of commanders and the Combat crew onto the tall grass. My arms folded over my chest as the Starquake backed off, closing the cargo door to keep the cannon line clear. After a few heartbeats, the Normandy lowered, although it took longer for anyone to come out since they had to suit up. My shoulders tensed when people emerged. So they wanted dialogue…
The group had a few soldiers to help counteract my Combat squad, but like my team they stayed a few paces back. The main force was a group of 4. A human female in a white jumpsuit and human male in N7 black armour flanked by a male turian in a dark blue armour that looked damaged on the right side and male salarian in a white, red and black uniform, almost like a scientist or doctor. All wore helmets, masking their faces. For my comfort, the Paladin unclicked from my hip and held at my side, pointing at the ground. Guns around me clicked as they followed my lead. The answering group also prepared weapons. My chin raised a notch, voice ready to roar over the two sets of ship engines.
"You'll forgive me for being cautious. I've not had the best experience with them," I opened, forcing the group to stop. The Normandy backed off to match the Starquake's height. "What do you want?"
"Your help," the female said. "We believe you have information that may prove useful to us,"
"Oh, I'm sure we have lots of information that would be useful, if not interesting, for you. Give me one goddam reason why I should work with a terrorist organisation?" I demanded.
"Well that depends, do you value your own species?" the woman asked. Her words rattled my shoulders, a snarl bursting free.
"What kind of fucked up question is that?!" I thundered.
"Would recommend caution," the salarian muttered to the woman, his voice quick like a hyperactive hamster. She glanced over. "Dossier hints at strong interracial connections. Female also appears stressed, possibly prone to violence, would not recommend any further agitation. Would avoid," he paused, breathing for a second. "Discrimination for successful dialogue,"
"I'd listen to the salarian, lady," I growled. "He has his head screwed on-" A hand clasped my shoulder, my gaze shifting to find Mat'al taking an extra step forward, eyes on the salarian. My frown grew, stomach bubbling.
"…Solus? Mordin Solus?" Mat'al asked. He… knew this salarian? The new salarian regarded Mat'al.
"Hmm, familiar voice, Akena Jungle accent, favours the left side, worn 2164 Mantis rifle, cold demeanour… can only be Delern," he concluded. My eyes bulged, struggling to keep up the salarian's fast paced speech. And how did they know each other? "Was unware you left STG. Thought you liked teaching,"
"I did. But my latest… student got caught up in something far bigger than the STG could handle. I thought you retired, Solus," Mat'al said.
"Did, though found areas needing my skill. Could help people rather than destroy," Mordin said. "Opened a clinic on Omega,"
"Now there's a surprise, Mordin Solus still working despite retiring. You will die in the middle of an experiment, I tell you," Mat'al shook his head. He noticed my gawk. "Mordin Solus, former STG member, brilliant scientist, doctor and geneticist. He was one scientist who helped create the genophage. We've worked together several times, although most of our communications was for headhunting of talent. A few of my students joined his teams," Mat'al whispered.
"Please keep him away from Raisha, Shual and Verv," I said, eyes drifting to the krogan behind me. Mat'al grinned.
"I doubt Mordin would need any help," he chuckled. "Although," he turned to the salarian "Why are you helping Cerberus?"
"Need my expertise," Mordin answered. "Needed scientist, needed someone to help protect people, colonies. After protecting my clinic, left for a time. It's in capable hands," A low chuckle escaped from the turian.
"Ok, I can't take this anymore," the turian chuckled. The man in the N7 armour turned to face him. Mat'al's chilled gaze turned frozen as he turned to regard the turian. "Long time no see, I hope everything has settled down from my last visit," he turned to the team, eyeing me in particular. His eyes turned up towards the Starquake. He seemed to grin, hands going to his hips. "You got her a new paint job, too. Not my colour but... well, not my ship," he chuckled. My eyes narrowed, fighting to place the voice. The helmet ruined much but he sounded familiar. He pulled his helmet off.
"Garrus!" I cried. The full shebang of silver and winter blue eyes stood before me with a smug click of his mandibles. Although, the entire right side of his face looked wrecked, held together by a white pad. What happened to him?
"The same. Funny running into you, although from what you told me, I shouldn't be too surprised," he said. My eyes studied the opposing team, but if Garrus was with them then… dammit this made little sense! The Paladin clicked back into place. It began the wave of disarming, I wasn't about to shoot Garrus for God sake.
"Ha! What happened to you? I knew you were cheap, old man, but you can't even afford new armour?" Val snorted. Garrus grinned.
"Oh? And how did those spores treat you, hmm?" Garrus asked. Val paused, twitching as he turned my way. My cheeks flushed under his stare.
"Who do you think interrupted us when Marruns cornered us? Or who helped us find a seller for the medicine?" I grumbled. His mandibles clicked at the revelation, revealing his displeasure. His eyes returned to Garrus.
"Better than you, anyway," Val countered. Garrus raised a brow before Val grumbled. He removed his helmet. Garrus whistled low.
"That isn't Lymphas spore damage," he commented. Val snarled.
"No, it's acid damage," Val answered, tone haughty.
"And why would you have acid damage?" Garrus asked, curious.
"The spores came in acid!" Val snapped. "Why, what happened to you?"
"Took a rocket to the side of the face," Garrus grinned. Val blinked, trying to form a comeback.
"Fuck, that's worse," Val grumbled.
"Wait, wait, wait," the N7 male held up a hand. He pointed to Val. "Isn't he that turian… from the Citadel?" he turned to Garrus. Val frowned. Garrus nodded, grinning. He turned, finger still frozen in place as it pointed at me. A growl formed.
"Are we taking our helmets off? Ok! Let's take off our helmets! Screw protection!" I cried, arms flailed above my head. Mat'al chuckled as his helmet slipped off.
"That's what she said!" Indira sang, pulling her helmet off. She received the one-finger salute.
"Fuck you, Indira!" I snapped. The N7 stared at Mat'al, fighting for words. The two humans glanced to each other before the female removed her helmet, revealing a mane of black hair and pale blue eyes. Her lips annoyed me, as if she had had a little bit too much Botox or something…
"I suppose we should introduce ourselves," I sighed, defeated. |The helmet yanked free, my hair tumbling in its ponytail. This whole mission was going off the rails! "Commander Indira Thermi'a, Commander Valérien Autillin, Commander Mat'al Delern and I am Captain Endellion Shaik. And you are?" The N7's hand fell limp to his side.
"I don't… believe it," he managed. My brow rose. He lifted his hands to his helmet, easing it free. My eyes widened, jaw slackening, every muscle refusing to work. Astonishment, bewilderment, fury. Those and more rocked me as the strong jaw, the short black hair and blue eyes glared warning sirens. The red scars on his face, that appeared to glow, were new but the face... I knew that voice…
"Shepard?"
The Timeline and Galaxy Map have been updated for this chapter. Please see profile for link to Archive.