Hey Mom and Dad: a "Lazarus Shunned" Prologue

Cerberus SIGINT data-capture, designate HELIX CELL, Second ECHELON Protocol

Personal Communications of:

Shepard, Jane: Lt. Cmd.

Service no. 5923-AC-2826

Fwd to: M. Lawson

MESSAGE BEGINS:

Hey Mom, Dad:

So, been a while since I've done this, hasn't it? Sorry about that, life's been…yeah. I hope what everyone says about "sleeping when I'm dead" is on-the-money, because I could sure go for a long rest right about now (that's not me being suicidal, don't worry—I'm just very, very tired. Also don't take that as a jab at you being…yeah).

Why don't we do this like we used to on Mindoir? Back when I'd write you guys on the trip home from school (even shuttles have FTL now; crazy to think how long it took that bus to get us from one end of the colony to the other).

So, what have I learned over, let's say, the last little bit (since it's been so long since I've done this)? Well, I learned:

(1) That about half of the volus in the Vol Protectorate are glad humanity got a Council seat and the other half can't believe we got it before they did. There's really no middle ground. I feel for them, I do, especially since that half of them that are glad we got a seat are pretty vocal about it. Maybe it's partially because they figure we'll help pave the way to expanding the Citadel Council, but I'm also pretty sure they're more than a little thankful for the Fifth Fleet coming in and destroying Sovereign.

(2) All that stuff the neighbors said about ExoGeni is too kind. I very nearly killed my first corporate executive on Feros—the ass and the rest of the suits willingly let a whole population of colonists get infected by a mind-controlling plant and, wouldn't you know it, his major concern was protecting company IP. There's a part of me that wishes I'd told him all the horror stories of the slavers and how at least they had the decency to avoid talking about the "greater good," but…it just felt like I'd be disrespecting both your memories. He didn't deserve to know who you were.

(3) The Alliance Parliament went ahead and confirmed David Anderson as our representative on the Council, speaking of that. You remember him from the old letters, right? After I joined up? Yeah, I owe him everything—absolutely, 100% everything—and what do I do? Make him a politician. I was serious when I said he'd be my number one choice but I didn't think anyone would take the word of the "Crazy Spectre" ranting about machines coming from the sky and killing us all seriously, since they hadn't done that before. And then they did. He's invited me to a dinner and some alcoholic beverages on the Citadel next shore-leave—he's been promising me a dinner ever since N-School, remember—but now I'm not sure I wanna go. He might slit my throat when I'm not looking.

(4) For folks with a reputation of being so collectivist you'd think it was a prank to spite Terra Firma's Mises Caucus, the upper echelons of the turian meritocracy are pretty dang quick to disown problematic people. Or, at least they are when it's literally impossible for everyone to ignore said problematic people. Before Eden Prime, Saren Arterius was the youngest Spectre in history, a point of pride for Councilor Sparatus, a guy who could stop insurgencies almost single handedly (plus for minus some heavy, heavy explosives) and, oh yeah, someone who played a bit "fast and loose" with the rules. And morality. And other people's lives, especially if they happened to those gross Earth folks. Now he's a pariah. A pariah everyone already knew was a loose cannon, of course, but yeah—there aren't many defenders of Saren anymore. And the sick, twisted thing of it is: as much as I know he was a victim, to a pretty significant extent...there's a big part of me that's happy to know I'll never have to deal with that name ever again.

Yeah, I know: not a great look for me. It's been a long month—cut me some slack, if'n you two don't mind.

(5) Apparently, mass effect drives and the relays get around the time dilation problem by, and I quote (from some physicist I was talking to): "stitching space-time together via sustained relativistic travel and quantum entanglement communications to create a hyperlocal 'present,' where time dilation is only slightly worse between stitched together planets than an orbiting satellite and the people on a planet's surface" (I was curious and apparently this is something people have spent a lot of time and research grants trying to figure out). I asked what "hyperlocal" meant and this person I was talking to, she said that nobody really knew but some philosopher coined it in order to make sense of the theories. So there you go, I guess.

(6) Someone on Pinnacle Station broke my combat-sim record. How I'm ever gonna live that down, I don't know. Sorry that you two raised a loser.

(7) And, finally, talk of the Reapers has died down, which has me incredibly worried that we're backsliding into denialism again. Yeah I guess I didn't really explain them all that much last letter. Spark notes: they're sentient spaceships that are apparently infinity years old, are twice the size of the largest dreadnaught in the Citadel Fleet, can influence your mind through their tech, and want to harvest us for one reason or another every 50,000 years. Us being organics, or at least the organics that're advanced enough to have indoor plumbing. Indoor plumbing is all fine and dandy until you get a look at just one of these things holding their own against a whole fleet. I'm sure you're thinking, "Jane, that's a pretty blithe attitude to a major problem." Well...yeah, because I still haven't processed this yet. I think Lovecraft was full of shit—humanity's apex position in the universe has been disproven more times this week than there are stars in the sky, and the overwhelming majority of people get along fine realizing they're not top-dogs in the world and don't need to be—but something like this still takes time to figure out. Besides, like I said, I've got enough to worry about with OPNAVIST 5510.100E saying, no no no, please don't use that word out in the field, if you don't mind. History repeats and all that, I know, but usually it takes history thirty years or something to do that, right? Sovereign blew up only a few months ago—shouldn't I have at least another year where people believe me when I say that giant sentient starships from before time are going to kill us all?

(Yeah I know that's not a really positive message but I'm running out of different ways to phrase it. You'd think actually seeing the damn thing would've been enough but I guess Uncle Max was right when he said that nobody's ever gotten hurt underestimating the intelligence of the average politician).

I won't start on that with you two; you're a captive audience (yeah that's a bad pun, I know, but this is how I'm coping—leave me alone) so it'd be cruel of me to shove all of my Reaper-related complaints down your throat. All I know is that, every day, I wonder if the Council got their hands on Reaper tech and they're already the thralls of the Reapers. Saren thought he was the good guy, right? The Council sure seems to think they're the good guys for ignoring this. That's not exactly pitch-perfect deductive reasoning, but I'm seeing parallels and I'm not sure what to do about it.

I've got Anderson, though—and I can't understate just how much more I feel like I'm standing on solid ground with him in the Big Chair. Hackett too, especially since he was right there when Sovereign started its attack and has given me every assurance that not everyone in the military thought I was crazy. Yeah I know, I am crazy. But at least Hackett trusts me enough vis-à-vis Doomsday to stick his neck out for me and the Normandy when we need it.

Hmph, well, look at that—already ruined the structure of my letter. That's all I've really learned about anyways, minus the fact that more and more Alliance people are talking about this "Cerberus" group. They're some "black ops" clowns that thought making rachni soldiers and plant zombies and the like would be an efficient use of "Alliance" resources. I put "black ops" and "Alliance" in scare-quotes because, as far as I can tell, the Alliance uses us pathetic N7's for black ops missions, and this Cerberus group has enough private funding that it probably never was a part of the Alliance military structure. Seems more like it's a pet project by some rich people with a funny idea of what "scientific progress" means, and some people in the Alliance were convinced enough to give it tax-payer money. Good thing I don't pay my taxes, right?

(I joke but I got a massive, angry letter from the Alliance Revenue Service saying I owed a years-worth plus interest right after the Sovereign debrief. Apparently Spectre business isn't a good enough reason to cut a girl some slack as far as the Taxman goes).

All right, look, I can't avoid getting a bit sappy here. About the last letter I wrote, when the Normandy was impounded and it looked like that ass Udina was going to doom us all to a quick and stupid death. I didn't really think that. And yeah, I know, neither of you can read this—there's no God, no afterlife, none of that—but still, it needs to be said: I don't actually wish I'd died on Mindoir with you.

I knew going in that the military was going to be stressful. Anderson even made sure that I wasn't signing up just because I thought I owed him and the rest of the Marines; he said, he told me, that it'd only work if I seriously wanted to live this kind of life. And I still do.

But god was there a lot on my shoulders—idiot politicians notwithstanding.

I needed to vent, and I needed to feel like I was trapped because, if I was trapped, then none of this was my fault. I didn't choose to get myself in this Reaper situation—the universe had decided that I was its next target, and ipso facto I became its next target. If I felt like I was back in the cages, back with everyone else…for all the trauma that caused, it at least made me feel like I'd been there before. Maybe I'd even had this crazy thought that, if I'd survived the cages, and this whole thing was a lot like the cages, then there wasn't any reason why I wouldn't get through the Reapers too. It wasn't a new situation—it was just more of what I'd seen as a teen.

Given distance, I know it's not the same. But that helped…I still want to apologize to you both for putting those words down, though. Doesn't matter that nobody else will read them—I shouldn't have said it.

I will say, though—and I don't care who reads or doesn't read it—that the crew helped immeasurably. I love every one of those crazy bastards.

The fact that Wrex still goes on, still has that bit of hope in him, even after the genophage destroyed the krogan's fertility—after almost every male sold themselves out as guns for hire, after the women had to go into hiding to avoid the warlords, after having to blow up the one possible cure his people could've had to stop Saren…it's inspiring, even just writing it down. You have to dig deep to find all that, but it's there, and I can't fault him for burying it.

I thought Liara was an Eager Young Space Cadet but you'll be hard pressed to find a more honest, openly compassionate person in any part of the galaxy. The fact that she's a certified genius and was giving Pressley a run for his money when it came to organizing the Normandy's logistical data is no small statement, let me tell you.

Speaking of genius's, what can't Tali do when it comes to tech and machines? Adams loved her, and I can see why—the Normandy never ran smoother than when she took time out of her day to help. She's still so quiet and reserved—she'll tell you whatever you want to hear about the quarians, but it's almost like she's afraid to let anyone know how she feels, other than…well, trapped would be the word I'd use. I figure she's like the sister I never had growing up, and typing all that out…wonder if that's why.

Kaidan's a rock. Now sure, he's got something bubbling underneath him—I can tell that from a country-mile away. But I never got the feeling that any of it consumed him. I think out of the entire unlucky lot, he's got his head screwed on straighter than anyone.

And Joker's gonna be the death of me someday but I still love the jackass. That prickly, prickly jackass.

The only two people I'm worried about—and don't think that means they didn't help me through my rough patches, because that's sure not true—are Ash and Garrus. Super-dependable, don't get me wrong…but yeah, I worry about them. With Ash it's pretty simple: she's got a chip on her shoulder and a fear of being vulnerable. God, like looking in a mirror, right? The difference is that her family name keeps dragging her down—nobody wants to forget what General Williams, the Benedict Arnold of the 22nd Century, did under a desperate, impossible situation (not that anyone will admit it was a desperate, impossible situation). "Simple" doesn't mean "shallow"; I just mean I can pinpoint why I'm worried about her pretty easily.

Garrus…I don't know. I think he feels like he doesn't belong anywhere, and instead of a chip on his shoulder he wears a massive cross. If you talk to him, you're talking to a man who's failed a million times and let everyone he cares about down—even though everyone who cares about him seems to say the opposite. He's stronger than he thinks he is but he'll scoff at you if for being cliched if you say so.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking—he's my type. The brooding type. I like crosses, I can hear you two saying that in my head.

Yeah, well…maybe. Pretty sure it's a one-way view though. I can't tell if Garrus thinks of me more as a teacher and, therefore, untouchable (I'd watch the phrasing if I could think of a better sentence, Dad, honest) or if he's just so insistent that he disappoints people that he doesn't even want to try. God that last one sounds like petty High School shit. That's probably what it is, though, I mean I don't know, I'm not a psychologist. But I'd bet money that that's what it is.

He's back at C-SEC now regardless and everyone that's not Alliance is on their way out soon too, so I guess I only have a little more time to get all my thoughts about them organized and filed away for when I need their support next, whether they're around or not.

It's what I've been doing with you two, after all.

I think I've spilled enough, right? Well, captive audience I guess—I'll say I've spilled enough and just assume you'd be tired of hearing me jabber if you were around to actually hear me jabber.

Next stop is the Amada System. Apparently some ships have gone missing around those parts and people figure its geth—you know, the flashlight heads from before? So I guess it's up to me and the rest of the Normandy folks to check it out, since it's not like we have other concerns right now or anything.

So I guess this is Shepard, signing off until next time.

Goodnight you two, and thanks for listening.

-Jane

MESSAGE ENDS

TRANSCRIPT NOTES: Useful for psychological profiles on Shepard's crew—possible dossiers for Lt. Alenko and G.C. Williams. Increased talk of Cerberus concerning—suggest we plug security leaks before too much light falls on us.

Confirmation of reports that Shepard pursuing possible geth sightings disappointing, but useful. Consider using donors to pressure Parliament to begin "asking questions" about Shepard's Reaper reports. Spread word until political back-channels unable to ignore it.

Fwding to Illusive Man

-M. Lawson