W.i.t.G
Hello, me again. No, I haven't died. Yes, I'm terrible at uploading. Apologies.
I've recently played through the Mass Effect Trilogy Legendary Edition again and I'm feeling inspired. Might as well try and get some chapters done - who knows, I might one day finish this story?
Let's continue!
"Do you ever wonder why we're here?"
"One of life's great mysteries isn't it? Why are we here? I mean, are we the product of some cosmic coincidence? Or is there really a God, watching everything... You know, with a plan for us and stuff. I don't know Garrus, but it keeps me up at night."
"I meant why are we currently outside the smoking ruins of yet another Cerberus base, instead of chasing any leads about Saren."
"Uh... Oh... Yeah..."
"I didn't realise you were religious, Lieutenant. I know you've been seeing Gunny Williams more frequently since we came back from Noveria, but I never pictured you as the God-fearing type."
"Heh... You don't miss much, do you Garrus?"
"Nope. Probably why the Boss keeps me around. That, and I'm a better shot than the rest of you."
With a bark of amusement, Kaiden shook his head: "I'll be sure to tell Ash that."
"Ash, huh?"
"Shut up."
With a smirk, Garrus kept the rest of his thoughts to himself as he looked out over the icy tundra that was Nepheron. Smoke billowed across mountain ranges, signalling where the human Spectre and his team had previously rooted out what remaining Cerberus forces they could find on the planet; the sheer beauty of the place, however, wasn't lost on the turian.
Although it seemed to be a barren wasteland fit for nothing more than the final resting place of these 'Cerberus' scientists and their horrid machinations, the views were awe-inspiring. Garrus gave a contented sigh as he began wiping chunks of ichor and blood from his armour; the cool blues and whites of the planet's surface instilled a sense of calm in those who took the time to view it. Light danced across glistening ridges and the lone sound of an exotic animal squawking in the distance threatened to drag the listener to believe they'd found a place of serenity; tranquillity.
Apart from the smoke. And the bodies. And Spirits, the creatures they had found underground...
Before Garrus could continue his musings, a sudden crash and grunt of exertion could be heard from the entrance to the final underground bunker.
Standing in the entrance was his commander, who unceremoniously chucked a crate outwards; multiple crates kept appearing before Shepard eventually started dragging out those Cerberus scientists that had either surrendered, or weren't quick enough to kill themselves before they could be captured.
Five dishevelled humans were suddenly kneeling in front of the turian and Lieutenant Alenko; their hands restrained and impromptu gags crudely stuffed into their mouths.
Garrus was just about to ask where the gags had come from before he could see the missing sleeves on the scientists uniforms.
'You can't fault the Commander's ability to scavenge and scrounge, I suppose. Like a seven foot Quarian - he's resourceful.'
Muffled exclamations, curses and pleas echoed in the frozen valley as Shepard wiped his forehead; beads of sweat matting his hair and causing the stubble on his face to itch.
"Christ, they were heavier than I expected!"
"Christ, God... Why are you two all of a sudden talking about human deities? Is Gunny Williams really that convincing?" Garrus laughed as he stood up from his seated position, before lightly kicking one of the crates, continuing: "What did you find boss? Anything good?"
Shepard tilted his head quizzically as he first looked at Kaidan, before addressing the turian marksman: "It's just an expression Garrus. Besides, who's been talking to the Gunny about God?"
Kaidan nonchalantly coughed before his hand crept its way to the back of his head; his face bright red. Garrus merely smirked and Shepard made a mental note to pay more attention to his lieutenant and gunnery chief - he didn't mind fraternisation as such, if that's what it was, but he would much prefer his team were focusing on the mission at hand rather than playing grab-ass with each other.
Shepard moved forward, opening one of the crates as he did so - positioned in such a way that only his two squad mates could see what he was doing; "Seems we've hit the motherlode. I was originally planning on making a trip to the Citadel soon to buy some new mods and equipment for the team, but the fine folks at Cerberus decided to give us their worldly possessions. They even had some experimental toys locked away... I'm sure they won't mind us testing them out for them."
With a side glance, the five bound humans began to increase their consternations; pulling against their restraints and screaming into their gags.
A menacing chuckle emanated from the human titan's lips as he slammed the crate shut: "Looks like these are the last remnants of Cerberus on this rock; what happens to them is now down to us."
Kaidan expressed a sigh of relief as he leant against a nearby wall, his body aching and his head pounding from too much biotic exertion: "I'm glad we can finally put this Cerberus crap to rest - if I never see a Rachni warrior or Husk again in my life, I'll die a happy man..."
Shepard nodded his head approvingly, speaking aloud what else had happened down in the bunker: "I tried to get as much data as I could from their central computer. Most of the data's been wiped, but I managed to copy as many files to my hardsuit's internal computer as I could. The data's encrypted, but I'd rather have something to give to the admiral, rather than coming back empty handed."
More groans of frustration and annoyance came from the Cerberus captives; a swift kick from the commander into the closest prisoner quickly shut them up.
"Shut the fuck up! You lot are responsible for the deaths of Alliance personnel; marines and army - don't make things worse for yourselves. I still don't know yet what to do with you."
Kaidan spoke next, his words measured as he viewed the commander's haul, "I'm sure the Admiral will be happy to have some faces to put to the crimes. Who knows, maybe this'll shake the Alliance higher ups into pulling their heads out of their asses and seeing that humanity's reputation is more at stake than we realised. But it's your call Shepard. If we've got some data, no point in dragging along dead weight."
"He's right, Shepard. If these Cerberus operatives had actively targeted any of the other races, humanity could have had a major crisis on its hands - the likes not seen since the Relay 314 incident. Spirits forgive me for saying it, but we're lucky they targeted their fellow humans." Garrus finished, his sniper rifle resting in the crooks of his arms as he disdainfully glanced over the prisoners. Some of them bowed their heads, not wishing to look into the heavily armed turian's steely grey eyes; the rest stared defiantly - hatred and malice evident.
Something clicked in Shepard; a sudden surge of pain ran through his mind - grotesque images flooded his imagination; images of death, destruction and synthetics. The beacon's images. With a slight stumble, his words became clipped: "Kaidan, bring the Mako around. I want off of this shitty planet."
Wordlessly, the human biotic gave a quick salute before jogging off.
"You mean the First Contact War?" Shepard said as he rolled his shoulders, a slight pop sounding as he too glared at his fallen foes. The pain went as suddenly as it came, but this was the fifth time in as many days that the Prothean beacon's images were pushed to the forefront of his mind.
"Wasn't much of a war really, was it? Humanity was fortunate the Asari stepped in when they did and brokered peace. Otherwise, you would have lost to the turian fleets and Earth would have been subjugated; humans could have potentially become another client race for the Hierarchy."
Shepard scowled at this, rounding on his turian counterpart, "We had plenty of fleets in reserve; plenty of soldiers ready to defend the Earth and its colonies. We wouldn't have given in as easily as you think. Never doubt the indomitable spirt of humanity Garrus - we're civil because we choose to be, not because we inherently are."
Some of the Cerberus operatives started nodding their heads at this statement, their fidgeting ceasing as they watched the argument between the two occur.
The 'argument' however, never came to fruition. With his hands raised in a placating gesture, Garrus took a step back; his mandibles splayed to show peace, "Alright Shepard, whatever you say. It was thirty years ago - before our time. I'm glad things turned out the way they did anyway - otherwise, we would never have met."
With a small smile on his face, Shepard stepped forwards; his hand outstretched: "Me too Garrus. It's always good to get a different perspective on things, anyway. I'm glad we bumped into each other on the Citadel when we did."
Clasping the titan's hand, Garrus nodded - inwardly congratulating himself for not aggravating the temperamental human juggernaut further.
All of a sudden, when it seemed their attention wasn't focussed on the captives, one of the Cerberus scientists managed to free themselves from their restraints before making a break for it.
The older human broke out in a breakneck run, his legs powering through as he tried to get away from the armed duo as quickly as he could.
The other captives gave encouraging shouts and screams behind their gags as they watched their colleague pelt towards an icy outcropping.
Shepard didn't seem to be that concerned however...
With a grunt, Shepard activated his comms: "You in the Mako, Kaidan?"
A slight crackle punctuated the reply as the whirring of a mass effect accelerator came online, "Yes, Commander. Just approaching the bunker now."
The operatives seemed to finally understand why their captors weren't concerned - they began to grow restless again, shaking their restraints and screaming until they were blue in the face.
Garrus gave one of the burlier operatives a quick smack with the butt of his rifle; discouraging them from trying to get up and make a break for it, like their colleague had done.
Shepard nonchalantly watched the elder Cerberus scientist slip on a frozen patch of ground before lazily giving his orders:
"Shoot that guy, will you Alenko?"
"Wilco."
A sudden boom sounded close to the bunker; the prisoners flinched at the sound, where as Shepard and Garrus had seemingly grown numb; stoic as statues.
Deadpan, Shepard looked out over the tundra: "You missed. Change your angle eighteen degrees and fire again."
"It's on the way!"
Another boom, another crack and another miss.
Shepard was growing annoyed now.
"Lieutenant, hit the fucking target! He's getting away!"
A grunt of exertion came over the comms as Alenko angrily replied: "I'm well aware Shepard!"
Before Chris could respond, a nearby mass accelerator fired and the elderly scientist's form crumpled in the distance - his head missing, and a crimson mist permeating the air where it should have been.
Smoke slowly billowed from Garrus' sniper rifle as he cradled it in his arms once more; "Scoped, and dropped."
Shepard grunted in annoyance and a mild amount of admiration as he signalled the lieutenant to reconvene at the bunker entrance. Garrus knew he was good, and he didn't mind letting the others know it. Shepard could certainly appreciate that kind of confidence; no wonder the turians saw the First Contact War as nothing more than a skirmish.
The prisoners dejectedly stopped their consternations and resigned themselves to their captors; whatever the human Spectre decided to do with them, there wasn't much they could do about it now.
Kaidan began backing the Mako towards the entrance, with the side hatch open; Shepard peered inside, a crate in his hands and a bewildered look on his face. Kaidan could manage a weak smile and a shrug of his shoulders as answer to his poor accuracy.
As the ground team began loading the stolen supplies, a deep boom came from underground - pitch black smoke suddenly shot out of vents near the entrance to the bunker, and a fiery inferno threatened to engulf the ground team.
The flames however, were quickly snuffed out - the cold, biting wind seeing to its extinguishment.
"That'd be the self-destruct going off... You Cerberus types really are paranoid, huh?"
Two of the remaining prisoners merely bowed their heads, the floor apparently more interesting than admitting the commander was correct.
The other two operatives however: a stocky bastard who clearly looked like he was in charge of the base's operations, and a petite Asian woman glowered at their captor - human curses barely muffled behind their gags caused Shepard to stop in his tracks.
With a quick hand signal, Shepard motioned for Garrus and Kaidan to continue loading the Mako; with another swift motion, the burlier captive's gag was removed. After a fair amount of coughing, swearing and shallow breaths the man spoke:
"Y-You have no idea what y-you've done... T-The work we've now lost... It t-took us months to gather that data... You fucking race traitor!"
Shepard mirthlessly chuckled as he stared at the defiant Cerberus operative, his words carefully chosen; his tone as cold as the tundra they currently resided in, "I've seen your work first-hand; the Listening Posts in the Styx Theta Cluster; Depot-23 in the Argos Rho Cluster and the colonial settlement on Chasca." At this, the prisoner visibly tensed, letting Shepard know he'd struck a nerve, before the commander continued, "you don't think we came straight here after Binthu, do you?"
The two scientists who had chosen to study the floor suddenly perked up, interested to hear where the conversation was going. They knew they had very little chance of getting out of here, but gleaning any information from their captor could be invaluable down the road if by some miracle they were set free and rescued.
Shepard continued, his hands resting gently in his lap as he crouched down to be eye level with his foe: "No, no, no... We knew you were here of course, but we thought we'd leave the best till last. You can thank my Quarian squad mate for finding your rats nest - you didn't wipe the computers on Binthu well enough, and with the navigational data we found at the other locations she discerned your location fairly quickly. That Alliance base on Nepmos you left to be destroyed is still standing by the way - Lieutenant Durand sends her regards. I bet it stings thinking that the mighty Cerberus has been brought low by a rag tag group of marines and aliens..."
If looks could kill, Shepard would be dead a thousand times over at this point; the Cerberus operative was clearly not used to being outmatched or outmanoeuvred.
"Patrols have gone missing; they can be explained of course. Settlement's have gone quiet; that's just pirates, no need to worry the Alliance brass - they already know that once a year a pirate fleet enters the Traverse looking for spoils... You were so close to going under the radar... But, you fucked up killing Rear Admiral Kahoku. Nothing makes the brass panic more than the thought that there's a crosshair out there aiming right at them."
With a grunt, Shepard stood up and moved towards the Mako. No words were passed as he inspected where his ground team members had loaded the supplies; visually gauging how much space was physically left.
"I have to thank you though - if it wasn't for Cerberus' actions, I would never have discovered I have a sister. That, means more to me than you'll ever know. That's the only reason you were dragged out of that bunker before I set the self-destruct. I would have tried to save the others, but they clearly took the cowards way out."
The operative's eyes went wide as he continued to watch the Spectre, unsure what was going to happen next. He really regretted not blowing his brains out as soon as he'd heard the first bunker had been breached. His arrogance would be his undoing, he reckoned.
Shepard's left hand unholstered one of his sidearms as he began to check the mods he had installed, "Now, Admiral Hackett's asked me to make sure that 'Cerberus' is wiped out. He doesn't want any survivors; nothing left to tarnish the Alliance's good name. If I do this, then he'll transfer my sister from the Corsairs. A small price to pay, huh?"
With a slight chuckle and a heavy sigh, Shepard raised his pistol; Kaidan and Garrus had finished loading the supplies a while ago and were merely listening to the commander speak. When he got going, it was very powerful. Galvanising even. At the start of their campaign, Shepard would have expected Garrus or Kaidan to have spoken out and plead for the commander to let the hostages go - take them for their intelligence value at the very least.
This campaign had already been very taxing, however, as both squad members looked on - a hint of amusement playing on their faces at the commander's antics.
Internally, Shepard didn't know whether to be proud or worried.
Trying to pass some of the decision making onto his XO, Shepard spoke: "How much room do we have in the Mako, Lieutenant? Enough for all of these prisoners?"
Kaidan gave a grunt as he stared at the petrified scientists, "Nope. Not with all these supplies we've 'appropriated'. There's not enough room."
"What about you, Garrus? Do you think we've got enough room for all of these prisoners?"
Garrus' sub harmonics trilled - an aura of violence continued to linger; the faint smell of urine permeated the air as one of the operatives - the young Asian woman - began to sob: "Depends Boss. Do you want to have them locked in the brig with the other marines watching over them, where chances are they won't make it to the relay before we find them hanging from the ceilings of their cells, or not take that risk and be done with it? Like you've said, they killed your own people with their experiments... I'd take the equipment and beat hands."
Kaidan barked out a laugh, "I think you mean 'beat feet'."
"Hands, feet... You humans have such stupid sayings! Who beats their own feet?!"
Shepard sighed heavily - the weight of this decision seemingly much heavier than it should have been. He slowly levelled the barrel of his sidearm against the defiant operative's forehead; the burly man choked back a few tears before speaking his final words, his bloodshot eyes closed: "You haven't destroyed Cerberus, Commander... We were merely one cell. Like a phoenix, others will rise from our ashes."
Shepard contemplated these words before making his final decision: "By my right as humanities first Spectre, I hereby sentence you to death."
Three shots rang out; back to back to back - like the crack of a bullwhip in the sudden silence.
The burly operative gave an involuntary shudder; tears springing forth, leaking from the corners of his eyes. The cold wind bit horribly against his bare skin...
When he finally opened his eyes the Mako had roared to life, the other armed assailants nowhere to be seen. The human commander however, stared down at him, his sidearm smoking in the freezing cold.
The two scientists, and the young Asian woman had crumpled where they were kneeling - fresh blood leaking from their ears as the backs of their heads were blasted against the fresh snow.
In a quiet, but malicious whisper, Shepard knelt back down again, "You've been spared for one simple reason: if what you say is true, and there's more of you out there... I want you to tell your boss, I'm coming for them. I'm gonna personally make sure they answer for their crimes against the Alliance."
With that threat lingering in the air, Chris turned about face before entering the Mako. Within seconds the APC sped away, to parts unknown.
The insignificant threat the APC posed when they'd first landed on the planet had caused the operative to chuckle with his subordinates; when the first bunker had reported heavy weapons fire and requested immediate reinforcements, the operative had started to falter - thinking that some of the experiments had managed to get loose again. When the second bunker fell silent, the operative's hubris was surely his downfall - before he could even take his own life, to protect Cerberus' secrets, a gauntleted fist had appeared out of nowhere and the inky black void of unconsciousness reached out to take him.
And now, he was the last one standing. He alone, was spared to send a message.
A great wave of emotion hit the lone survivor - anger, relief, despair... Before long, wailing cries of despondence could be heard as the operative remained kneeling, death and destruction all around him.
How the fuck was he supposed to warn the Illusive Man that he now had an enraged Spectre baying for his blood?!
Within the Mako, Shepard's omni-tool gave a quick chime. Nobody reacted outwardly at first; hoping it was the message he was waiting for, but still somewhat anxious it was all a fever dream, Shepard leant back into his seat, his attention fully focussed on the words in front of him.
Alenko continued to drive towards the rendezvous, and Garrus constantly kept a lookout for any signs of trouble in the gunner's seat. After a short while of silence, Kaidan spoke, "Is that Joker, Commander? If so, let him know we're about five minutes out."
"It's not Joker."
"Oh."
Garrus couldn't help the words that escaped his mouth, "Is it, Tali?"
Chris' eyes were dragged away from his holographic display as he stared at the back of Garrus' head, a hint of annoyance permeating through his response, "Why do you immediately think it's Tali?"
Garrus' mandibles splayed as he spun around in the gunner's seat, a quick lie suddenly formulating in his head, "I don't know Boss - I just had a hunch it would be, that's all. She's always on her omni-tool isn't she?"
Shepard could smell bullshit, but didn't want to even go there right now. All he wanted to do was get some food, and sleep until he reached a network of comm buoys.
"It's my sister... She set out on her assignment from Hackett a couple of days ago - the Warsaw's just entered the Fortuna system, and she thinks she'll be done soon. We've got a hell of a lot of catching up to do when she's aboard the Normandy and I have no fucking idea where to even start..."
"Is that the redhead with the scar we met on Binthu?"
A simple nod was the only response Garrus received. With his voice lowered, however, the turian mused, "And Spirits, those hips-" Garrus stopped himself abruptly as he blushed fiercely, his slip up made apparent as Kaidan barked out a sharp laugh.
Chris, was not amused.
"Don't even go there, Vakarian. Keep your fucking eyes on the ridgeline and nowhere else."
The turian marksman's sub-harmonics trilled with embarrassment as he buried his face in the Mako's monitors: "Not going there Boss, understood."
The sounds of Kaidan's laughter were heard the whole way back to the Normandy.
Lieutenant Abigail Shepard sat aboard the SSV Warsaw, in the Starboard Observation Deck; her eyes scanning her omni-tool hoping - no, praying - to see a notification from the only person in the entire galaxy that she wanted to hear from. Multitudes of glittering stars; swirls of various nebulae - colours that would enrapture any who viewed them - went unnoticed. Only the words she wanted to view on her holographic display meant a damn to her.
When no such notification was made apparent, the fiery redhead closed her eyes in frustration before leaning back against the bulkhead she was resting against. Anxious thoughts; unfounded fears flooded her imagination as she began to panic:
'What if he doesn't have access to his omni-tool?! … What if something's happened to him? … What if he's changed his mind?'
Before these thoughts could escalate any further, the N7 steeled herself; going over their last messages, she tried to lose herself in positive thoughts instead.
'No... He hasn't changed his mind. I'll be with him soon, and all will be right in the galaxy - I won't let him out of my sight - just like Mom and Dad would have wanted.'
Blowing a loose crimson strand of hair away from her face, Abby stared at her reflection - a slight grin emerging as she thought back to their first meeting...
On the planet Binthu, six days ago:
Shepard's mind went blank.
Holding the younger N7 against him in a warm embrace, he looked towards his squad mates; his eyes pleading for them to help him.
All of a sudden, his mind went into overdrive - the implications of her statement caused his knees to grow weak and his gut to churn fiercely.
Confusion was evidently rife. Not just for him, but for his ground team too.
When the lieutenant had started to stop crying, she drew herself back to look at Chris - her beautiful features were marred by snot, and tears continued to run down her face. A warm, and loving smile however caused Shepard's thoughts to halt once more; his thumb gently wiping away what gunk he could see with an unconscious gesture. His words came back to him eventually, and in little more than a hoarse whisper, he stuttered out:
"I-I-I don't understand..."
A short laugh; a beautiful sound rang in the human titan's ears as the younger Shepard began to wipe her own face, "S-Sorry about that. I've been told I'm an ugly crier. I don't do it very often but when I do, people usually remember it."
Silence reigned.
Shepard continued to stare down at the younger version of - well, him - his words lost to the void once again.
Luckily, it was the aged krogan Battlemaster that came to his senses first out of everyone present. With his armoured arms outstretched, Wrex motioned for the others to start moving, "Come on, this conversation's not meant for us. Everyone outside, now."
Ushering the other ground team members outside the bunker, the two N7's continued to stare at one another. Tali and Garrus lingered somewhat in the doorway, but a gentle shove from Wrex allowed the solid metal doors to slam shut.
Silence reigned once more.
Chris' head involuntarily shook, his legs finally giving way as he collapsed to his knees.
"N-no... You can't- you're wrong... Y-You've got it all w-wrong..."
The lieutenant assumed a similar position, her hands gently resting on the sides of Chris' face.
Her emerald eyes twinkled as she spoke, "I know it's hard to hear... But I've been imagining this scenario over, and over, in my head since I was old enough to understand... I looked to the stars hoping - praying - that you were looking at the same ones; wishing I would be able to finally tell you that you're not alone anymore... I've searched for this opportunity for so long, and I can't believe it's finally here."
The commander tried to remain somewhat stoic; but alas, he failed.
Tears streaked down his face as he continued to stare into the verdurous orbs in front of him; transfixed on nothing but her. His heart so desperately wanted to believe this fanciful tale, but his head persistently blared warnings. With a shaky hand, the commander activated his omni-tool before running a full body scan.
Maybe he'd hit his head again; maybe he was currently unconscious and on his way back to the Normandy.
Maybe he'd died from his wounds and this was an angel getting ready to welcome him to St. Peter's pearly gates.
Maybe he'd finally jumped off of the deep end and his mental state was so fragmented you wouldn't know where it began, or ended.
His omni-tool beeped once in the encroaching silence, signalling the program had completed.
Lo and behold, he wasn't dead.
He wasn't suffering from a mental break; his vitals seemed somewhat normal for an N7 that had just recently killed over a few dozen heavily armed humans, Rachni warriors and inhuman Husks...
Abigail softly chuckled - just like he usually did - and continued, her words soft but powerful, "I'm real. I'm not a figment of your imagination. I'm your little sister. And I'll prove it."
Numbly the commander nodded his head, not really understanding what she meant - the words simply washing over him as his brain struggled to comprehend the information right in front of him. He searched his memories; trying his best to remember anything about his childhood that could allude to this wonderful dream being actually real.
Suddenly, a sharp pain came from the top of his head - and then dangling in front of him was a short black hair; a satisfied smile on the face of the person who had just plucked it. Within moments, a long curly red strand joined it.
Both sets of eyes watched as the hairs were laid on top of the commander's omni-tool - another program having been prepped.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as a holographic image began to form in the space between them. Both strands of hair appeared, before the familiar image of a double helix structure took their place. Two separate images now; two separate double helix's.
Lines started to be drawn between the two - very quickly, various pieces of information began to filter through. To those scientifically minded, they would have been intrigued about the more nuanced and hyper-specific results.
The Shepard's, however, didn't give a shit about the specifics.
A large holographic MATCH was all the confirmation they needed.
Both humans slowly released a sigh; their breaths unconsciously being held back. Immediately, the commander took the smaller lieutenant into a tight embrace - the siblings didn't dare move lest the world fell away from them.
Then, the tears came.
The pair held each other for what felt like an eternity; Abigail rubbing her older brother's back and cooing soft comforts in his ears, whilst years of sorrow, loneliness and despair welled up and rushed out of him - like an overflowing river bursting against its banks.
When the tears began to abate, brother and sister finally looked at each other with small, gentle smiles on their faces. It was Chris that began to laugh first, Abigail joining in shortly afterwards.
Fate, undoubtedly worked in mysterious ways.
Tough conversations about each others beginnings would need to be had, but that could be dealt with in the future. For now, they had each other.
And that, was more than enough.
A small tear rolled from the corner of Abby's eye as she clutched at the golden chain around her neck. It was clichéd, but she'd combined the two strands of hair and placed them in a locket her mother had given her on her sixteenth birthday.
'If only you could have lived to see him Dad, he's the spitting image of you. And Mom, he certainly has your eyes... Your smile too... He's the best of both of you. Or what I can remember, anyhow...'
A pang of sadness punctuated the thought as terrible memories threatened to make themselves apparent: a home on fire, weapons firing from all angles, blood, death, cries for help and pleas for mercy...
A soft knocking on the metal door frame dragged Abby out of her inner reverie; a stoic servicemen wordlessly saluted before addressing his superior: "Captain Ranjetta has requested your presence on the bridge, ma'am. We're about twenty minutes out."
With a nod and a sniffle, Shepard gave the man a small smile before dragging herself up off of the floor, "Thanks Phillips, I'll be right there."
Another salute shared between the two service personnel signalled the end of the conversation; without even thinking, Abby's feet were already moving.
'Two down, and just this one to go. Then I've held my end of Hackett's bargain up - not long now before I can leave this Corsair work behind me.'
Thinking back to how Abby had handled the negotiation of her release from the Corsairs, she was certain she should have shown more respect to the admiral of the Alliance's Fifth Fleet - then again, maybe that's why Hackett had relented in the end - maybe he appreciated his subordinates speaking plainly to him. He was probably used to having his ass kissed everyday.
It also didn't hurt that her brother had threatened to throw his new Spectre status around.
Tense words had been shared but ultimately the admiral had seen how important Abby's transfer meant to the commander and what benefits could come about.
With a slight stumble over an engineer repairing a doorway, Abby gave her apologies before continuing forwards, her mind quickly going back to her daydreams.
Stepping into one of the heavy cruiser's many elevators, Shepard nestled herself to the back of the lift, past a group of marines as she began to think back to that specific conversation with the admiral of the Fifth Fleet...
Four days ago...
Admiral Steven Hackett was simply at a loss for words.
Sat in his office on Arcturus Station, the admiral's face quickly changed to fit his current mood - thunderous didn't even come close.
On a holographic display, split into two sections, were two faces that looked strikingly similar - even their scars from previous battles seemed to mirror each other. If it wasn't for the fact that he knew they were on opposite sides of the galaxy to each other, Steven could swear they were in the same room as they managed to pick up on each others sentences seamlessly. It was certainly odd... But that wasn't what had the admiral's back up.
It was the small smiles they had on their faces as they finished addressing him. Like they knew the outcome of this conversation before he did.
With a sharp intake of breath, Hackett's scowl didn't seem to budge an inch: "Say again Shepard, I don't think I heard you right. There might be some lag on this line."
The siblings looked at each other on his display, their heads both cocking slightly to one side as they asked the same question: "Which Shepard, sir?"
'That's going to get very annoying, very quickly...'
Pinching the bridge of his nose in consternation, the elder human loudly exhaled, "The first one. Tell me again, from the top."
Commander Shepard cleared his throat before speaking, sounds of movement and shouting from marines in the background somewhat drowning his voice out. Clearly, the commander had only just come back from a mission - his face streaked with blood and dirt:
"Admiral, the mission to the planet Binthu gave the Alliance two things: first, we learnt somewhat about Cerberus' capabilities; their vast network clearly shows they have resources and classified knowledge, and were forewarned about Alliance actions in that region of space. To put it bluntly sir, we've got a leak. Secondly, we learnt that Cerberus has no qualms with assassinating Alliance personnel; they certainly didn't hesitate with murdering Rear Admiral Kahoku and killing numerous other soldiers."
Hackett merely grunted, indicating for the commander to continue. Inwardly though, Shepard was making some very valid points - facts that were already causing the elderly human to start losing what little sleep he managed to steal during third shift.
"Not only did the Alliance benefit from these sacrifices sir, but by some miracle I was introduced to a sister I never knew I had."
At this, the younger Shepard's face blushed slightly but no one interrupted the human titan speaking, "So, I'd like to formally request Lieutenant Abigail Shepard, service no: 6273-TL-2901, be transferred to the SSV Normandy as soon as physically possible. Her skills would almost certainly be a-"
Hackett began to stare at the electronic documents on the pad in front of him - a formal transfer request certainly had more red tape surrounding it than he liked, but that was the military for you.
Another heavy sigh and Hackett raised his hand for silence. The commander quickly fell silent as he waited for the admiral to speak:
"You don't need to sell me on Lieutenant Shepard's skill set, commander - I was the one who approved her endorsement for ICT in the first place. You're a damn good engineer Lieutenant, and one of the best Corsairs we have. Glowing reports from your CO's; plenty of commendations and medals - losing you would be a hell of a blow to the Fifth Fleet, and I don't know if I can let that happen. Not to mention, having siblings serving together on the same damn ship fucks the chain of command up something terrible. What if something was to happen to one of you? How am I supposed to be able to trust that you'll put the mission first instead of each other?! And how the hell did you only just find out that you had a sibling in the military Shepard?! You're trying to tell me that neither of you knew the other existed and hadn't reached out beforehand?!"
An undercurrent of anger had permeated through the admiral's questions, but Chris did his best not to let it rile him up; his response was calm, cool and collected, "It's complicated, sir. Abby and I... we haven't had much of a chance to discuss our parentage in person. Back on Binthu, we both agreed to help the survivors of the 113th get off-world as quickly as possible, and by that point we both had our orders to go our separate ways. I'd hoped this transfer request could help alleviate that. But we've both agreed, the mission will always come first, sir. You know my service history - Torfan should stand out as an example of that."
The admiral slowly stood up from his seat; his back facing his terminal as he gazed out towards the empty reaches of space; his hand reflexively balling itself into a fist before slowly opening again. There was something very calming for the aged veteran when he saw what lay out there; some semblance of wonder still caused goosebumps to pass down his spine as he admired the view. From his office, it was like he could almost reach out and grab every star in sight...
The glare of the red giant at the heart of the Arcturus Stream painted the most spectacular colours, and was truly a wonder to behold. Earth was beautiful, but nothing compared to this for Steven Hackett. Like a trustworthy companion, it was always there when he had life changing decisions to make.
Again, Shepard had made another good point. The Butcher, Maniac - call him what you wanted - was the first person Hackett would turn to if the situation was truly dire. He could certainly make sure the mission was completed, even if that meant sacrificing everything else.
Silence reigned as both marines waited to hear from the admiral.
"Complicated... what isn't complicated these days..." Hackett muttered, more to himself rather than addressing his subordinates.
"Sir?"
"The answer is no, Commander. Request denied."
Silence filtered through the admiral's office as both Shepard's weighed up their options; it was Abigail that spoke next:
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"Permission granted, Lieutenant."
"Admiral whilst I appreciate my work as a Corsair is invaluable to the safety of our colonies, the commander's mission is far more important than mine. If the geth are gearing up for an all-out war against humanity, hit-and-run attacks on pirate bases in the Terminus systems won't do much to stop them. You said so yourself, I'm a damn good engineer - who better than me to send in first to fight synthetics?"
This was getting tiring - now they were both making very good points.
Hackett finally turned around from his viewport, and once more took his seat - his hands clasped in front of him as he appraised the N7 operatives.
When another silence was just about to settle in, the commander weighed in on the conversation, "Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"Spit it out, Shepard. I've given you two more time than I should have already."
Chris rolled his shoulders as he took a massive gamble, "Sir, I hate to mention this but as humanities first Spec-"
The admiral glared daggers at the 'Spectre' before passionately retorting, "Don't even go there with me, Commander! You might be humanities first Spectre, but I'll be damned if you forget you're an Alliance marine first and foremost! You answer to me when all's said and done - unless you want to turn your commission in and work full time for the goddamned Council?!"
"Fuck no! … Sir."
"Then I'd belay whatever bullshit you were about to spout."
"Yes, sir."
Hackett could feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on from all of this; he was already running ten minutes late for a meeting with High Command about carrier upgrades for the Fifth Fleet.
The two N7's were silent once more: leaving the commander's unspoken threat of invoking his Spectre status to linger in the background like an awful smell.
What really irked the admiral was the fact they knew they had a damn good case - realistically, they didn't need his blessing if the commander decided to throw his new political weight around with the Council. If he petitioned them, they would surely throw the case back at him and assign Ambassador Udina to deal with it rather than waste their time.
If Udina was suddenly given the task, then that meant the Prime Minister of the Alliance would be involved. If they were involved, then Admiral Hackett would almost certainly have brimstone and hellfire waiting for him the next time he wanted to try and push forward some ideas on how to improve his ships, or where he could expand his operations.
Hackett could appreciate a cunning strategy; daring tactics; a bold plan of attack.
He hated being the victim of such things, however.
Numerous mental calculations bounced through Hackett's mind as he weighed up the pro's and con's of allowing the younger Shepard to be transferred.
The grizzled veteran's face was stoic; not a single emotion or hint of a change in thought was shown through his countenance.
Hackett could appreciate when he'd been beaten - Lord knows he'd had his share of defeats throughout his career. But he'd always learned to make sure he got something out of it as well.
Eventually, he spoke, "Here's what's going to happen: I'll approve your transfer request-"
Both Shepard's lit up at hearing this, large smiles plastering their faces as they looked at each other more so than their superior.
With a grunt, the admiral continued - a wicked grin on his face as his scars twisted on his holographic display: "-on the basis of three conditions."
The commander stopped smiling at this point, knowing he'd potentially made a deal with the Devil...
Abby didn't care - she'd have stormed the Perseus Veil on her own if it meant she could serve with her brother.
Hackett continued looking straight at the commander's holographic eyes, "Condition one: humanities first 'Spectre' will hunt down the rest of these Cerberus bastards and see to it that they no longer pose a threat to the Alliance. Root them out Shepard, and bring back whatever data you can get your hands on. I want to know who's compromised, and who ratted us out."
The Spectre gave a curt nod as he accepted his part of the deal.
"Condition two: Lieutenant Shepard will accompany the Warsaw to the Han and Dis systems to root out criminal elements that are actively attacking Alliance convoys in their respective areas. We have it on good intelligence from a 'Helena Blake' that these murderous sons-of-bitches are heavily armed and supplemented by mercenaries - including krogan. You can use your skills as a Corsair one last time Lieutenant, before you transfer."
Abigail was already researching what other systems were in those clusters as the admiral finished establishing his second condition - another curt nod signified her agreement to her part of the deal.
"And the third condition..." Both Shepard's waited with bated breath.
"Lieutenant Shepard answers directly to me. Commander, you'll retain control and responsibility of the Normandy and its resources; Lieutenant, you will be attached as my eyes and ears - I expect regular reports on how your mission is progressing. If you can abide by these conditions, then I'll have the paperwork drawn up. Are we in agreement?"
With smiles on their faces, both Shepard's gave their responses simultaneously, crisp salutes punctuating their answers: "Yes, sir!"
A genuine smile crept onto the elder human's face as he reciprocated the gesture of respect, "Then that'll be all. Dismissed."
The comms suddenly cut out, and Hackett was left alone in his office - the glare of the red giant still persisting and causing a beautiful crimson glow to dance across his desk as he began to affix his signature to the lieutenant's transfer request.
They'd only just received their orders, but the admiral knew the siblings would see their tasks through to completion.
They were N7's after all. The Alliance's best.
Once done, Hackett slowly stood from his desk before making to leave his office. Outside waiting was his assistant, a young ensign who'd recently been transferred from Rear Admiral Mikhailovich's 63rd Flotilla; a scrawny junior officer with pimples still covering his face.
Hackett chucked the datapad to him before marching off to the High Command meeting; if he could help it, he really didn't want to miss the end of it.
As they walked brusquely, the ensign struggled to keep up and inform the admiral of multiple developments that had occurred whilst he was busy talking to the Shepard siblings.
It was business as usual, of course, and Steven Hackett had more decisions to make that affected the rest of the Alliance, before he could try and get some sleep.
The lift doors quickly opened to the bridge of the Warsaw, and Shepard stepped out with purpose in her stride.
More salutes and acknowledgements were given by the crew as the N7 came to a slow stop before the ship's galaxy map; Captain Ranjetta turned around, an expression of mild disdain on his face when he viewed the fiery marine. A reminder of his cowardice above Binthu, and the chewing out he received from his CO when the reports came flooding in that it was Commander Shepard of the SSV Normandy that saved the stranded soldiers of the 113th.
Shepard gave a quick salute, which was very lazily reciprocated by the captain, before speaking: "You wished to see me, sir?"
With an outstretched finger, Ranjetta pointed to the planet Amaranthine in the Fortuna system of the Horsehead Nebula: "Scans have picked up your 'criminal base' on the planet's surface; near the most southern point in a rather deep crater. There doesn't appear to be any external defences or other activity surrounding the base to indicate it's anything like what we've already encountered. Are you sure your information is accurate?"
Shepard gave a nod as she brought up her customised omni-tool, information springing up much faster than the captain expected. With a wave of the N7's arm, the planet transferred from the galaxy map to the palm of her hand; information on the planet's weather, solar cycle, wildlife and atmospheric readings becoming readily available.
"It's accurate, sir. I'm sure of it."
Shepard should be sure - the crime boss she'd interrogated was far more interested in not becoming a dribbling mess or wet stain on the floor, like his compatriots had been, to lie to her.
After a few moments the question that had yet gone unspoken, slipped from the marine's lips: "If there's no external defences, or activity, then what are we missing?"
A few more button presses and the planet returned to the galaxy map - different filters of the planet's surface were shown before eventually the answer they were looking for was made apparent:
"There's a series of tunnels throughout the planet's crust. They must be using those to move their supplies into their base."
Ranjetta gave a low whistle before viciously grinning at his subordinate, his malice evident, "Looks like you can't 'order' this one to be blasted from low orbit after your finished then, Lieutenant?"
Shepard waited a few moments before speaking, her tone clipped: "No, sir. Looks like we're going in on foot."
Ranjetta hoped that was what the fiery redhead was going to say, his joy evident in his mock surprise, "I'm afraid there's no 'we' in this situation Lieutenant - my Corsairs have other orders to be carrying out. If you believe this is the main criminal hideout, you'll have to take it down by yourself. Or report back that you failed in your task..."
A small laugh erupted from the warrior's lips as she wickedly grinned at her 'superior'; her words were as icy and razor sharp as the wind her brother would be dealing with on Nepheron: "Not to worry, Captain. We N7's thrive on seeing the impossible done. Just give me a shuttle, and fuck off back to the relay with your tail between your legs - again."
Without waiting to hear the captain splutter out some weak retort, Abby turned about face and made for the lift.
She'd suit up, and deal with this on her own.
Once the criminals were neutralised, she could finally get back to Alliance space and rendezvous with the crew of the Normandy; she'd be able to sit down and speak to her brother about what the future could hold for them both - by first explaining their pasts as best she could.
The commander unceremoniously chucked his helmet on his bed; the rest of his armour still adorning his body as he took in a large breath. With a shaky exhale, Shepard sat down on his bed before reaching for the bottle he kept by his bedside.
His head pounded from exhaustion; his body ached from being constantly pushed to its limits; and to top it all off, the beacon's images were causing him to feel sick more often than he would have liked.
With a large swig of the murky amber liquid, straight from the bottle itself, the commander gave a quick gargle before swallowing. The taste of blood, ash and smoke still remained on his lips, but at least his stomach had started to settle again. Placing the bottle on his desk, the commander threw himself on his bed - stains appearing very quickly on the crisp white sheets.
Lying on his back, the commander closed his eyes and tried his best to drift off into a hopefully dreamless slumber...
A resounding click of the ship's comms system being activated caused one of Shepard's eyes to bolt open; an involuntary growl resounded deep in the back of his throat as he placed a pillow over his face.
"Commander, you've got a call coming through to the comms room. I think it's the Council? I'm not sure though."
'For fucks sake...'
"What do you mean 'you're not sure' Helmsman?"
"It means I'm not sure, sir. Pressly can't determine its source of origin - it's coming from an encrypted channel."
The commander contemplated his options before resoundingly choosing that his own health and wellbeing was more important than talking to the Council, right now: if it was important, they'd call back.
Shepard turned over on the bed, his eyes closed once again as Joker waited for a response. A muffled reply was given as the Spectre spoke more into his bed sheets than anything else: "If it's the Council, tell them to fuck off and call back later."
Silence reigned for a time as Joker tried to decipher the garbled response he'd just heard from his superior.
Before the comms disconnected, a sudden thought struck the tired human juggernaut - what if it was his sister trying to contact him? What if she was in trouble and needed his help?
Adrenaline surged through his veins as Shepard's eyes bolted open; with a heavy sigh, the marine quickly launched himself off of his bed. With another healthy swig from the bottle, Shepard grunted as he hit the holographic interface of his door: "Alright Joker, I'm on my way. Shepard out."
Moving quickly past a group of service personnel, Shepard took the steps two at a time - his legs screaming at him to rest.
Without even so much as a second glance at the bridge or the CIC, Shepard walked straight into the comms room.
A red haptic lock signalled the room was secure as the commander spoke aloud: "Patch them in, Joker."
"Aye aye, Commander."
A loud click indicated the connection; Shepard spoke hurriedly: "Abby, is that you?"
Nothing was said for a moment before a distorted warble replied: "Commander Shepard, a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Confusion was evident on the commander's face as he pointlessly looked around the ceiling - looking for some imaginary camera that he knew wasn't there but his paranoia still made him weary.
"Who is this? What do you want?"
Although their voice was scrambled, Chris could detect a hint of oiliness that belied the speakers natural ability to talk their way out of any perilous situation they found themselves in: "Who I am, is insignificant Commander. All you need to know, is that I represent one of the most powerful individuals in the galaxy - the Shadow Broker. And you have something that was promised to them - something that they would very much like to take off of your hands."
With a grunt, Shepard folded his arms across his chest before leaning back on his right leg: "And what could I possibly have, that the Shadow Broker's interested in?"
A short, guttural laugh sounded in the enclosed room: "Why, the encrypted files you secured from the Cerberus main facility on Nepheron, Commander! My employer would be very interested in finding out what sordid secrets lie in that OSD you brought aboard your ship."
Although Shepard knew he wasn't currently being watched, a drip of ice cold sweat ran down his spine as he unconsciously reached for the data drive in his chest pocket: "I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't even know who or what 'Cerberus' is... I was clearing out a pirate base that was threatening Alliance shipping routes. You're working with some faulty information, my friend."
"An interesting choice of words Commander... Yes, I would very much like us to be friends - so in that spirit, please: don't lie to me again. Don't make the mistake of underestimating how far my employer's influence stretches... For example, I know you're desperately waiting to hear back from your long lost sister on the SSV Warsaw; I know you keep a bottle of bourbon in your room, and I know the horrors of the past weigh heavily on your mind... How is the fund for the Families of the Torfan Fallen doing, by the way?"
For the second time in a week, Chris was at a loss for words. No one knew about his involvement in the fund - no one.
Before Shepard could try and lie again, the unknown Shadow Broker operative continued: his voice emanating an aura of confidence. They knew more than the commander was comfortable admitting.
"You don't need to answer Commander - I already know. And I sincerely doubt that any number of credits given to charity will make you sleep better at night. Not when the families of the fallen blame you for their brothers, husbands and sons deaths... Your moniker as a Butcher is most unfair; if they only knew the truth... Or do you prefer 'Maniac'? From your most recent exploits, I do wonder."
The Spectre could only grunt out his response, anger flaring through his mind as he so wished he could wring the neck of this insufferable cunt, "Fine. I have the data. So fucking what? It's property of the Alliance now that Cerberus has been wiped out - which means, your employer can go fuck himself. I don't need to listen to this crap-"
Chris was about ready to disconnect the call and storm out of the room before the voice replied; its answer causing the human titan to stop dead in his tracks: "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Commander... Such vitriol! Such venom! If only you realised that this data was promised to my employer by Rear Admiral Kahoku himself; obviously, before his untimely demise... I pray that his Gods received him to their afterlife warmly."
"You're lying... Why would the Admiral promise you the data; how did he know it even existed?!"
"Now you're asking the right questions. It's rather simple: my employer told him about it. In exchange for the location of the Cerberus research facility that directly led his men to their deaths on Edolus-" Grotesque images of sizzling acid patches, rent metal and strewn limbs across the golden brown plains of Edolus caused Shepard's stomach to drop; the question he wanted to ask became suddenly stuck in his throat; seized in an icy cold grip.
The agent continued, "-Rear Admiral Kahoku promised he would spend any available resource in making sure my employer received the data they needed. Now, of course, Cerberus didn't want this to occur - what with injecting the poor man with thresher maw acid back on Binthu an all... But you seemed to have involuntarily found yourself in quite the dilemma, Commander. It seems you've stumbled into something you shouldn't have."
Chris' mind raced at a breakneck speed; his hands reached out to brace himself against the railings in the comms room - it couldn't be true... Cerberus was the one behind the attack on Edolus? It was Cerberus that had led the thresher maw's to attack the Alliance outpost... And if they could do that; if they could trigger thresher maw attacks...
"H-How do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know this isn't all some elaborate lie?!"
"My dear Commander - you saw the experiments yourself. If a group such as Cerberus were investigating Rachni Warriors and Husks, is it such a step to imagine they had grander ambitions for the galaxy's apex predators?"
More images of corpses sizzling; blood pooling around half-built prefabs; weapons strewn about as cries for help sounded in the background... Bile rose very quickly into the back of Shepard's throat as a single memory repeated over, and over, and over again in his mind.
Akuze.
Gory images battered Shepard's mind as he fought hard to stop himself from violently throwing up, his response little more than a whisper, "N-No... No this can't be right... W-Why would Cerberus... Why would they do such a thing?!"
A sharp, vicious laugh was the commander's only response for a time, before the voice spoke again; menace lacing every word it uttered: "Humans and their capacity to inflict harm on themselves, and others Commander... Human ingenuity is your answer."
"That's what this data is, isn't it? … It's proof of Cerberus' crimes. It's proof of their involvement in diabolical experiments... This would ruin humanity's galactic reputation if it got out!"
Another short, sharp laugh, "Very good Commander, very good... You are certainly astute. But you see, my employer doesn't want to see humanity cast down from the galactic stage. No... This data is merely an 'insurance policy' for the future. Troubling times are on the horizon... My employer merely wishes to have the best chances of weathering the storm."
Humanities first Spectre couldn't help it - with a violent jerk, Shepard's last meal ended up coating his greaves.
Resting his head against the cool metal railing, the commander pressed on - he needed to know the truth.
"Cerberus was behind Akuze, wasn't it? They caused that pack of thresher's to... To..."
Next came the booze he'd just drank; more vomit coated his feet as the voice said nothing for a time.
"I don't like to deal in speculation, Commander. Neither does my employer. But... I will let you in on a little secret, in the spirit of friendship and all..."
Shepard sank to the floor, his back against the railing as he sat in his own sick; "There's been some rumblings of Alliance scientists being found murdered most horrifically lately... My sources say that the perpetrator may be heading to the planet Ontarom soon; in the Kepler Verge. If you want confirmation of your suspicions, I'd head there with all possible haste."
Tears leaked from the corners of Shepard's eyes as he persistently slammed his left fist against his scarred, battered leg.
When no response was forthcoming, the voice spoke for a final time: "For you Commander, I will make a very special exception. I will meet you halfway - I only require a copy of the encrypted data you recovered. The Alliance doesn't need to know about our transaction here today. You can keep your physical copy - a transfer from your omni-tool will be more than sufficient."
As Shepard stared into the distance, his mind elsewhere, his hand slowly activated his omni-tool before gliding gently over the OSD in his pocket.
Moments later, a ping sounded across the comms, and a smile could evidently be heard from the disembodied voice, "My thanks, Commander. The Shadow Broker won't forget what you have done for them today. Farewell, and safe travels."
The comm cut out abruptly, and Shepard was left alone in the silence; his thoughts and the horrors of the past the only company he currently kept.
Minutes passed by with the commander remaining motionless; two notifications pinging on his omni-tool were the only sounds echoing in the chamber - an incessant, monotonous beeping.
Eventually, Chris opened his messages - the first, from his sister; the shadow of a smile graced his lips as he felt his heart surge with warmth. She was alive, and was making her way back to the system's relay. She had a story to tell, apparently, of how she dealt with the criminals so effectively… She'd even managed to take one of them captive and was taking them to the Citadel now.
Before opening the second message, Shepard spoke aloud for the first time since the comm cut out with the Shadow Broker's agent; his voice hoarse and cracking with emotion:
"Joker... You there?"
"Yeah Commander, I'm here."
"Set... Set course for the Kepler Verge - tell Pressly to get coordinates for Ontarom."
"Aye aye, Commander."
"And, Joker?"
A moment of hesitation before the helmsman responded, "Yeah, Commander?"
"Gun it. Get us there with all possible haste."
"Yes, sir."
The comms cut out once more.
Chris was in two minds whether to drag himself back to his bed, or try and fall asleep here. He decided to open the second message on his omni-tool instead...
The second message read: "Transfer from REDACTED - to Families of Torfan's Fallen Fund - 1,000,000 credits." With an addendum attached: "With respect, Commander Shepard - The Shadow Broker."
The bridge staff, when asked afterwards by Lieutenant Alenko, why the commander was in the comms room for hours, couldn't accurately say why.
All they could say was the quiet sobs heard behind the metal doors haunted many people's dreams for months afterwards.
The pulsing light of the red supergiant Anadius served as the primary backdrop and awe-inspiring view for the individual currently seated in the most important room of Cronos Station.
Jack Harper took another drag of his cigarette before blowing out a small puff of smoke - a familiar, comforting addiction picked up from his days during the First Contact War. Of course humanity had evolved exponentially since then, and had numerous ways of slowly killing themselves with other alien methods - but for Jack, cigarettes oddly reminded him of home.
Earth. The beautiful Earth.
With a datapad in one hand, and his cigarette in another, the Illusive Man couldn't help but frown.
These reports, if accurate, were concerning.
A whole project dedicated to potentially advancing Cerberus' military capabilities - no, humanities military capabilities - had been significantly disrupted by Alliance operations. To the point where millions of credits' worth of equipment and investiture was now smouldering on multiple backwater planets across the Attican Traverse.
Jack didn't care about the money being wasted - more money could always be acquired... It was the fact that other humans had caused this damage; that, rankled the older gentleman.
A gentle beeping on the right arm of his chair, signalled her arrival.
Placing his datapad down, the Illusive Man spoke brusquely into the air - knowing his assistant was constantly listening for whatever whim he needed taking care of.
"Send her in."
No response was given before the doors to his office silently parted for the incoming operative.
A solid, rhythmic clacking of high heels against the glossy onyx floor was the only sound that could be heard in the presence of the Horsehead Nebula's greatest attraction.
Without turning in his chair, the Illusive Man spoke - another cigarette having been lit and placed between his lips:
"Report."
The operative cleared her throat gently before beginning; "The Shadow Broker is asking for the release of three of their operatives that we've apprehended thus far. I'm positive there's more sir, if I just had some more time-"
A singular raised hand stopped the plea almost instantaneously.
Taking another drag of his cigarette, the Illusive Man motioned for the operative to take the datapad from him. Wordlessly, the agent began to glance over the information - the significance slowly dawning on her.
"The Broker's got this bargaining power from somewhere, Miss Lawson. And I can only assume it's from this mess." The last word was practically spat out; venom lacing the older man's tone in a very rare show of emotion.
No response was given as 'Miss Lawson' continued to read; another drag of his cigarette and Jack Harper slowly turned around in his chair to face his subordinate - and most effective operative in recent memory.
The Illusive Man could certainly understand why operative Lawson was as effective as she was. Engineered to perfection, she was the perfect mixture of sex appeal and lethality; not to mention her extreme intelligence and ruthless ambition.
'Miss Lawson' nodded her head as she countered; an alluring Australian accent causing Jack's hairs to stand somewhat on edge: "Operative Kane's report correlates with these findings, sir. When we found him, nearly half dead in the frozen wilds of Nepheron, he was cursing some 'Alliance bastard' for 'ruining everything'."
A hint of a smile played on the Illusive Man's face as he continued to stare at his subordinate. By any man's standards, Miranda Lawson was the closest thing to the pinnacle of female attractiveness: a gorgeous face; a slight hint of makeup that only accentuated her impressive features further; a very generous bust that Miss Lawson had no problems apparently showing off if the situation dictated it; an hourglass figure that would make most weaker men fall to their knees and pray to a God they'd never believed in before for blessing them with the miracle of viewing her...
For Jack Harper though, he could see past the face value attractive features... It was her ability to consistently generate the necessary results that kept her in the position she currently enjoyed.
Another drag of his cigarette and the Illusive Man beckoned her to continue. Handing the datapad back across, Miranda finished her report: "If the other incursions are to be viewed in conjunction with this latest raid, then humanities first Spectre is the one who gave the Shadow Broker the information to blackmail us." Jack raised an eyebrow as Miranda hurriedly added, "Sir."
Nodding his head slightly, the Illusive Man looked back at the datapad once more: "I agree. Commander Shepard seems like the mostly likely suspect for the destruction of Project Minotaur."
Miranda tensed slightly before asking her next question; perhaps the most important one she would ever ask: "Your orders, sir? I can have Shepard dealt with and brought here within the next solar cycle, if you so wish."
The Illusive Man barked out a short laugh before waving the notion away; "You'll do nothing of the sort. The Commander may have proven to be a thorn in our side, but I've learnt something even greater than what Project Minotaur could have provided us."
"Sir?"
"Shepard isn't one to be bogged down with the morality and philosophy of waging a 'clean war' - he'll do anything that needs to be done to achieve his goal... He's shown that by siding with the Shadow Broker. Yes... The Commander has proven that he can be morally flexible for when the situation demands it."
Miranda said nothing as she waited for her boss to finally state what he wanted done.
Turning back round in his chair to face the red supergiant, Jack Harper took another drag of his cigarette as he motioned for Miranda to leave: "Bring me a dossier on the Commander, Operative Lawson. I want to know everything there is to know about the man."
The only sound that could be heard in the office was once again the clacking of heels as Miranda began to leave; one final comment from her boss however caused her to stop at the threshold of his office.
"Oh, and Miranda? See to it that Operative Kane's contract of employment is terminated, effective immediately."
Again, no words were passed as Operative Lawson understood the hidden meaning of the Illusive Man's request.
Silence reigned once more in the spacious office, as the Illusive Man put out his cigarette.
Yes... If what he believed was soon to come to pass in the near future, it'd be men like Shepard that would help shape humanities future in the Milky Way galaxy.
Men like Shepard would be needed to fight back the Reapers.
Next chapter: Toombs and a quick pit stop to the Citadel to pick up Abby.
Then, Feros!
Cheers.