24 A Final Resting Place

--> We’ve assembled a good team; some of the best damn fighters in the galaxy. All potential distractions have been dealt with, and everyone is up to speed. We’ve upgraded the Normandy’s weapons, shields, and armour; this swift and stealthy frigate now boasts the defences of a cruiser and the firepower of a dreadnought. Mordin has upgraded our combat gear; amps, omnitools, armour, and guns all surpass performance ratings of standard models by an average of fifty percent. We’re as ready as we’ll ever be. We have everything we need to hit the Collectors. All that's left is to acquire the Reaper IFF, then anchors aweigh and into the breach.

But first there are two stops I need to make, two old friends to visit, one living, the other dead.

--> Liara is doing well as the Shadow Broker. She has the whole operation running smoothly and has started turning its operations around. Instead of selling her network’s services to the highest bidder, the Shadow Broker’s assets have become an extra-legal aid to peace and order in the galaxy.

I gave Liara two things. The first is a file; names, dates, locations, operations past and present, procedural patterns, everything I’ve been able to get my hands on over the past few weeks on Cerberus. Added to the Shadow Broker’s already extensive intel on the subject, this combined information dump should prove a tremendous asset to the Alliance in shutting Cerberus down. Also in the file is all the information we have on the Collectors. If the worst comes to worst, if we die without completing the mission, the Alliance can pick up where we started.

The second thing is a letter. Addressed to Ashley Williams, I entrusted Liara with seeing that it reaches her safely.

--> The grave of the SR1 Normandy, an icy and lonesome planet in the Amada system. Here lies the pride of the Alliance, now a fractured and splintered corpse spread across the snow of Alchera. The hull that gleamed so proudly aloft now catches a bank of snow. The crewdeck where never more the crew will sleep and chatter, the cockpit that points towards a horizon it will never reach, the engine room never again to hum and thrive with power, and the bridge that commands only a field of white and silence.

The Normandy, the ship that sailed among the stars, the vessel that carried her brave crew through dangers and peril, now rests alone in this remote and silent grave so far from the chaos and danger of the living world. She has served her part, and now her remains rest beneath a shroud of solemn white, snowy and silent, to lie there undisturbed till Kingdom Come.

Her end, so violent and so sudden, was nearly my own. But I have been given a second chance, an opportunity that must not be wasted. Normandy, now broken and shattered, was my home. What was done to her will be done to every home if we fail to stop the Reapers. They’ll come eventually. Their servants, meanwhile, must be dealt with.

The monument is in place. Now to turn from the past and prepare for the future. Time to take the Reaper IFF.

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19 The Clutches of Cerberus

--> The long-promised trip to Pragia has been seen to. What we found there, I’m sad to say, doesn’t even surprise me. Amidst the crumbling ruin clutched by mutant plant vines we found the fading story of a veritable hell-hole. The Teltin Cell had abducted every child with biotic potential they could get their hands on. All of them were used as test subjects, just so many human lab rats. Any procedure, no matter how horrific, that might theoretically improve biotic strength was carried out upon these children. All were expendable, all except Subject Zero; Jack was the focal point of the entire project. All of the atrocities inflicted upon her and the other children were for the sole purpose of turning her into an invincible super-biotic.

It is unclear if Jack matched their expectations. Her strength certainly exceeds that of any other biotic I’ve met. The astonishing thing is that she retains any level sanity. A mind subject to a childhood of constant torture and abuse, no human contact beyond killing other children, should have turned her into a genuine monster, completely devoid of any semblance of basic humanity. How she managed to cling to sanity, to remain a functional human being in any degree, is beyond me.

Exactly what happened at Teltin is unclear. All that we know for certain is that Jack broke out of her cell and tore through anything in her path. She escaped Teltin, then was captured and abused by pirates. After a mixed career of crime she was again captured and imprisoned on the Purgatory. She’s never had anything like a chance at a normal life. Hopefully, if we survive the mission to stop the Collectors, she will finally get that opportunity.

We found another escapee from Teltin there. The poor fellow, Aresh, he called himself, was drawn back to the place he couldn’t forget. In his crazed state he planned to restart the Teltin project, to discover why they had inflicted such horrors upon him. Jack sent him scampering, where to I know not.

Something fishy about Teltin. We came across communication records that implied the details of their experiments were unknown to the Illusive Man. Aresh claimed to have been in the ruin for about a year, but his hired security escort spoke as though they’d just arrived. Did the Illusive Man send Aresh to plant false evidence and shift the blame down the chain of command? I shouldn't be the slightest bit surprised.

Even Miranda seems shaken by what we found on Pragia. She adamantly denies Cerberus proper had anything to do with it, insisting that the Teltin project had gone rogue. Sure. Whatever helps her sleep at night. Jack, desperate for satisfaction, nearly started a biotic brawl with Miranda for refusing to apologise on behalf of Cerberus. The sooner we complete our mission and those two go their separate ways the better. Jack has agreed to remain below decks and leave Miranda alone. For now.

Strange that Jack should have escaped the clutches of Cerberus so many years ago, only to find herself once more ensnared in their machinations. Of her own volition, to be sure, but little better for that. We're all in this web together now, all by choice and with good purpose. But once purpose is fulfilled, when the game is played and the cards laid bare, It's all of our necks on the line, even if we survive the mission. It's up to me to find a way out of that noose.

--> I’m seeing reports in the Cerberus intelligence network of an increase in Geth sightings. I’ve just saved a civilian munitions vessel, the MSV Broken Arrow, from colliding with a planet in the Nariph system. The ship had been commandeered by Geth and deliberately set on collision course. That’s just plain odd. The Geth are perhaps the most technologically advanced species in the galaxy, viciously logical and deadly in combat and planning. If they’re resuming hostilities outside of their home system again, why are they resorting to paltry tactics like seizing a civilian freighter? That’s the sort of strategy I’d expect to see used by Batarian pirates, who are more interested in hurting as many people as possible than risking their own skin. Geth are cunning and deadly fighters, ruthlessly implementing vicious attacks upon their enemy, optimizing damage dealt and paying no heed to the cost in their own forces. They’re not at all senselessly suicidal, but destroying their enemy is their primary focus; their own casualties are a mere detail.

There are also reports of Quarian’s encountering the Geth. Tali, in command of a stealthy investigation, has been sent into the Dholen System in the far rim. That system is occupied by Geth. I don’t know why the Quarians sent their people in there, but I plan to find out.

There’s another, seemingly unrelated, reason to investigate Dholen: the Cerberus web. When the Collector threat is dealt with, I’ll be cutting ties with Cerberus and taking the Normandy back to the Alliance. When that happens, the Illusive Man will almost certainly activate failsafes built into the Normandy to prevent me from doing just that. I need help discreetly finding the hooks hidden in the Normandy, and removing them. Immediately if possible, or at the last minute if necessary. Tali is brilliant, even for a Quarian, and knew the old Normandy inside and out. Moreover, she’s someone I can trust. If anyone can free the Normandy, it’s her.

--> Tali and her team are on the planet Haestrom. It looks like they’ve been detected, and are engaging superior Geth forces. Moving in.

--> Most of the Quarian’s are dead, shot by Geth infantry or bombed by the Geth dropship. Tali is alive, as is the Quarian marine charged with her safety, Kal Reeger. They’d been sent to investigate the system’s star, Dholen. It’s aging prematurely, the interior’s mass increasing at an unprecedented rate. Within a hundred years, perhaps more, the star will go critical.

Understanding in theory how to increase the star’s mass is simple; application of dark energy through mass effect technology. There are however two massive problems: the problem of scale and the problem of origin. No known species has every created a warp field powerful enough to crush the interior of a star. It seems unlikely the Geth would use such an inefficient weapon, the effects would take a century at best to come to fruition, and their opponent would have long since discovered the danger and evacuated. Moreover, the Geth are eminently practical, and wouldn’t destroy an entire system and all of the resources on every planet, asteroid and comet therein.

To my surprise, Tali not only agreed to accompany me, she even got official clearance from her superiors to do so. She says I’ll need people I can trust if I’m working with Cerberus. I suspect her superiors sent her orders to infiltrate the Normandy and spy on Cerberus, find out what precisely Commander Shepard is up to.

This business of Dholen reminds me of the mystery of Rothla. An entire planet blown to bits by Krogan. They didn’t live to tell us how they did it, and I suspect they didn’t do it on purpose (you never know with Krogan). It’s possible that clan discovered a hidden super-weapon from a previous cycle meant to fight the Reapers. It’s also possible this soon-to-be-exploding star is something of the same sort ticking over, perhaps accidentally triggered by the Geth. In any case, neither super-weapon, intentional or not, is likely to prove useful.

I’ve received a message from Admiral Hackett. He’s asked me to recover the missing dog tags from the crash site of SR1, and plant a memorial to mark the spot.

According to the Shadow Broker’s intel on Hackett, he refused permission to Alliance forces to detain me. I’m grateful. This job would be much more difficult if I were constantly dodging Alliance agents. I owe Hackett a great deal for his allowing me a chance to prove myself. I’ll plant the memorial before I board that dead Reaper. It won’t be a pleasant experience, but I’m honoured to be given the job.

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11 Councilor Anderson

-->  That went better than I could have possibly hoped for. Not only did Anderson lend me an open ear and let me go afterward, he even insisted the Council officially reinstate my Spectre status. The other Councillors complied on the condition that I maintain a low profile and don't stir things up.

Apparently, Sovereign has officially been declared a Geth Dreadnought, and the Reapers dismissed as a myth. The Council has exerted all their influence to quell as thoroughly as possible the rumours of Sovereign being only the first of many, and are afraid I’ll raise hue and cry and upset their peaceful delusions of security. Fools. We thwarted the Reapers first attempt, but they will come eventually, and when they do, we need to be ready for them. Plugging our ears and singing a song of denial will not save us.

Anderson listened to every word I said with studious attention. I told him everything. How Cerberus revived me, of my meeting with The Illusive Man, my findings on Freedom’s Progress, my plans to assemble an independent team to fight the Collectors, my doubts about my own freedom of thought, the recreation of the Normandy and suspicions of security leaks in the Alliance, and my intention to report back to Admiral Hackett as soon as the Collector threat had been dealt with. Anderson never said he disbelieved me, but neither did he commit to anything, divulged no classified information. I asked after Ashley before I could stop myself, but he declined to tell me anything, only that she is alive and well.

I cannot read my old Captain’s thoughts, but I assume he is consciously and deliberately suspending judgement. He has no conclusive proof one way or another about my authenticity or wholeness of mind. He has apparently decided to watch and wait, to give me a chance to prove myself one way or the other. That’s all I can ask, and more than I could have hoped for.

I can, at least, remove one gnawing doubt from my extensive list of cares and worries. I insisted, before I left, that C-Sec have me examined for suspicious implants. Despite my fears, suggesting the examination, even submitting to restraints, triggered no failsafe. The results confirm that I do have extensive implants to facilitate and augment my recovery, but, so far as the doctors can tell, neither I nor Garrus (who underwent emergency surgery in the Normandy) have any implants that could control our thoughts or actions, nor anything resembling a kill-switch. The Normandy is still suspect, and circumstance still shackles us to this course, but our own minds are clear and free. And if Cerberus didn’t chain either Garrus or me, chances are Joker and Chakwas are also safe.

This weight being lifted means more than I can say. I now feel twice as strong, as though the whole galaxy couldn’t stop me. Nearly giddy with relief, I’m now off for to assemble an army. The Collectors won't know what hit them.

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9 AWOL

--> I'm alive.

I’ve lost two years. By rights, I should have lost all of them. I died. Apparently. The Normandy was investigating the disappearance of three ships. We didn’t find the source. It found us. An unidentified cruiser ambushed the Normandy, ignoring our stealth systems as though they didn’t even exist. Devastating particle beam fire crippled the Normandy in seconds. With engines compromised, weapons disabled, and navigation destroyed, I gave the order to abandon ship.

I was the last on-board. An explosion, one of the last, sent me flying through the ruptured hull out into space. Seconds later, the enemy ship delivered the killing blow, and the Normandy was no more. That’s when I noticed my airline was ruptured. Things blur out shortly afterwards.

I dimly recall waking to a sterile-looking room, an alarm beeping, some anxious words, and a sedative being administered.

It could have been moments or months afterwards that I awoke for a second time. This time I was alone, but a voice over the com was telling me get up and arm myself from a nearby locker. I found the pistol before I properly found my feet: standard-issue Predator; high-calibre, decent RPM, good accuracy. Explosions rocked the place and gunfire could be heard.

Mechs came to kill me. I moved by drilled instinct, my gun hand dropping mechs while my hazed and aching head tried to sort out what was happening, what had happened. I prowled through deserted halls and rooms marked with a strange insignia, thoughts and questions shooting cross my dim consciousness like bullets from the gun I was firing. Where was I? Shouldn't I be dead? Whose facility was this? Had anyone else survived the attack on the Normandy? Who was attacking this facility? Who had attacked the Normandy? Was it affiliated with Batarians? Reapers? How many more ships had been ambushed? Had the strange vessel been caught? Was it an individual threat or one of many? How long had I been out? Where was everyone?

Finally I found another Human, also exchanging fire with the mechs. Enemies in the immediate vicinity disposed of, he identified himself as Jacob Taylor, head of security. He said he knew no more than I about why the security mechs had gone rogue, only that it had to be an inside job.

He told me I’d been more or less, but progressively less, dead for two years. Apparently, I’d just been awakened prematurely. The voice of warning I’d heard over the radio had been Miranda Lawson, senior officer of the station and chief overseer of my revival, Project Lazarus.

The crew of the Normandy had not escaped without casualties. Navigator Pressly and twenty-odd servicemen had died; the rest of the crew, including the combat team, had been recovered by the Alliance. I had been declared killed in action. Jacob hesitated to tell me who he was working for, who had recovered and revived my lifeless body. Project Lazurus, he said, used cutting edge technology and incredible resources to secretly bring me back to life. When he eventually told me that the party responsible was Cerberus, I was not pleased.

Jacob Taylor seems a trustworthy man despite his affiliations. He put himself in jeopardy with both me and his superiors by telling me who he worked for. I’ll reserve judgement of this individual; he may well believe his association worthy, but I have no such delusions about Cerberus. Cerberus had been a top secret Alliance black ops organization. They went rogue during my mission to stop Saren. When the Reaper had been dealt with and invasion averted, I’d turned my attention to Cerberus. They’d been conducting illegal biological research, lured marines into death traps, murdered an Alliance Admiral, and set themselves up as a militant shadow organization of highly suspect motives.

Jacob has promised to take me to his boss, The Illusive Man. That should prove to be a most interesting interview.

Jacob and I found only two other survivors on our way to the shuttles. The first was the station’s chief medical specialist, Wilson. The second was Miranda, waiting at the shuttlebay. She shot Wilson on sight, telling me and an alarmed Jacob that Wilson had been responsible for the attack. It would explain certain oddities in Wilson’s behaviour. Nevertheless, Miranda’s snap judgement call with immediate lethal force upon an erstwhile friend in no way makes me feel safe around her. And not a hint of regret. Jacob asked her “What if you’re wrong, Miranda?” To which she replied “I’m never wrong.” I have little doubt, should Miranda deem it necessary, she’ll put a bullet in the back of my head. If I had any inclinations to let my guard down around Jacob, Miranda will keep me alert.

--> So I’ve met the Head of Cerberus. Only one of him. The Illusive Man was too canny to meet me in person, instead communicating face-to-face via hologram. Smart man. Otherwise, I may have been inclined to lay hands upon his person.

The Illusive Man tells me that Humanity is under attack. The disappearance of the three ships, the attack on the Normandy, was just the beginning. Human colonies in the Terminus Systems have been disappearing, the citizens gone without a trace. The official explanation is that the disappearances are the work of slavers and pirates. Apparently the Alliance is devoting its attention to expanding its influence and control in Citadel Space, now that they have a seat on the Council, and have little time to spare for sporadic disappearances. But tens of thousands of Human colonists vanished without a trace should warrant more action.

I asked the Illusive Man why he spent the price of an army to resurrect one soldier. He says it's because of what I represent, defiance of the Reapers. Apparently he deems it absolutely essential that the symbol of Sovereign’s defeat be seen alive and active.

I’ve agreed to investigate the most recent colony to suffer abduction, Freedom’s Progress. When I’ve conducted my search we will speak again.

A fine fix this is. I’ve been gone two years. Officially, I’m dead. And I’m now connected to Cerberus, essentially a terrorist network. If I immediately report back to my superiors, as is my duty, then best case scenario I’ll be a free man again in another two years. I don’t have time for that. If there’s a threat to Human colonies, especially if there’s suspicion the Reapers are somehow connected, I have to move fast. If the Alliance is too caught up in politics to ensure the safety of frontier worlds, I have no choice but to intervene as best I can before I submit myself to all but guaranteed arrest and delay. For all of its principles and virtues, the Alliance is still a massive bureaucracy, with all the inertia that entails. If they aren’t moving now, by the time they finally get their momentum underway, it may well be too late.

--> We scoured the colony. I’ve seen deserted habitations and locals before, but this was different. There were no signs of evacuation, no indications of violent withdrawal, every empty house looking as though the inhabitants had simply vanished, dropping everything at once and leaving without a trace.

Ghost town indeed. Every empty house, every deserted street, seemed to silently scream of terror. What in Creation could have happened here, I asked myself. No damage to be found anywhere; no blast holes, no bullet marks, not even traces of chemical weapons. This colony didn’t have a proper garrison, but the civilians had been armed. There should have been signs of a fight.

Finally we found someone. But not colonists. Quarians. Tali'Zorah with a team looking for one of their pilgrims, still here somewhere. Working together we found him, hidden and trembling. Veetor was nearly hysterical, jabbering and muttering. Something had clearly frightened him out of his wits. It’s unclear why he alone had been left behind. Perhaps, immediately making himself scarce, his environmental suit had masked his location from scanners. Or maybe the attackers had only been interested in finding and taking Humans, either not scanning for or simply ignoring an out-of-the-way hidden Quarian.

We did get some information out of him. He kept talking about Swarms, bugs that flooded the colony and froze everyone. Then Monsters. He kept jabbering about the Monsters, how they took the colonists away, of how they would be back for him.

However incoherent and frantic he may have been, Veetor had had the blessed presence of mind to scan and record the “Monsters.” The footage was blurry, but the readings confirm that the “Monsters,” human-sized bipeds, are what Jacob and Miranda call “Collectors.”

Apparently Collectors are a race of aliens possessing advanced technology, appearing on the galactic stage only recently, while I was under. They have no official public relations, and appear so infrequently and in distant locations that most people don't believe they exist. Their standard MO is to collect specimens with mutations or genetic anomalies from slavers, paying exorbitant sums for seemingly useless captives, then they vanish whence they came, through the Omega 4 Relay.

The Omega 4 is a Primary Relay of unknown destination. No one has ever mapped its mate because no one other than Collectors has ever passed through it and returned. This suggest the Collectors possess unique knowledge of Relays, or at least this one in particular.

Of significant interest is the Collectors abrupt change of procedure; there is a great deal of difference between select purchasing of dozens of unfortunate souls from slavers, and whole-sale abduction of colonists by the tens of thousands. And only Human colonies. Their previous acquisitions were of all races, but only those individuals with abnormalities. Now it seems any Human will suit their needs, as many as possible, and all other races are forgotten. Why?

Either The Illusive Man is a very bad liar, or he simply doesn’t care to be cautious at this time. He says the data from Veetor “confirms” the Collectors are responsible for the disappearances. He had told me before that we knew nothing. Why do I get the feeling Cerberus may have conducted business with them? If so, it seems the deal went sour. Is the Collectors new focus on exclusively targeting Humans a consequence of the estrangement, or the cause?

The Illusive Man also keeps hinting that the Collectors are working with the Reapers, but won’t say why, only that “the patterns are there, buried in the data.” He cites the Collectors apparent familiarity with Relays, and their possible motive in targeting humans as being revenge for the death of Sovereign. Possible, but that doesn’t explain why they capture the Humans instead of simply destroying them.

I've made my decision. With an immediate emergency before me with the lives of tens of thousands at stake, I have little choice.  I am now doing what I would, and do, call myself mad to even consider. But I have no better option. I’ve agreed to work with Cerberus to stop the Collector threat. The Illusive Man has promised me a ship, and, to my surprise, has offered me a list of dossiers; soldiers, mercs, spies, and scientists for consideration and recruitment. I’d expected he’d insist upon providing me with a detachment of Cerberus soldiers, not offer me a head start on assembling an independent combat team. It seems he wants me out in the field with as much freedom as possible, more than he wants me under his command.

Of course, Jacob and Miranda, along with the crew of the ship, will all be Cerberus officers, and the ship itself will be sure to have failsafes to ensure control, if necessary. Given the circumstances, I’d expect to have something of the same sort installed in me. I’ve just had enough long-term surgical implants put in place, it would be the easiest thing in the world to put a control chip in my brain. I might very well think there probably was one, were it not for the fact that Miranda herself was complaining that The Illusive Man had forbidden her to do just that. She said he was afraid it might alter my personality, shed doubt upon my genuine identity, that me being known to be truly alive and not just an imposter superseded all other considerations. Moreover, I have carefully examined recent events, and every action and decision I’ve made holds up to logical consideration; thus far, I cannot detect in myself any slides of judgement in The Illusive Man’s favour, even my decision to work with Cerberus holds water, however bitter. I have of course, at this time, no conclusive evidence either way about the presence or absence of a control implant of some sort. It could be a simple failsafe primed only to activate in emergency, in which case I’ll have no evidence of its existence until such time as the emergency occurs. 
 

I need allies, people I can trust not affiliated with Cerberus to protect me from myself should the worst occur. This prompts the question of why The Illusive Man would encourage me to find just such people. Then again, he could be confident enough in his own provisions, he feels safe in granting me an illusion of autonomy and safety. 

Damned mess.

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