42 Defectors and Crime Syndicates

--> It’s easy to forget that not all of the combat-ready forces of the galaxy are government-sanctioned fleets and armies. Besides local militias and makeshift civilian resistance, there are also the criminal elements, from local gangs to galaxy-class mercenary bands. The Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Bloodpack are the three most powerful and well organized of these disreputable brigands. They have thus far taken but little part in the Reaper war, beyond of course avoiding the Reaper invasion front and taking advantage of whatever resources become exposed. If they could be recruited, it would add a welcome boost to our combat-ready forces in this everywhere and everything against the Reapers.

There are two difficulties with such a plan. The first is getting them to cooperate with our command structure. The second is getting them to work together without tearing each other’s throats out. They are, after all, criminals, and have fought each other perhaps even more than the authorities.

As fortune would have it, the second difficulty seems to be clearing itself up already.
Prior to expulsion by Cerberus from her seat of power on the pretentiously named waste bin of Omega, Aria T’Loak was the biggest crime boss on that station, the centre of criminal enterprises in the whole of the Terminus Systems. Despite her sour disposition, Aria was an unusually pragmatic crime boss, providing what little security and stability Omega had. She’s currently trying to unite the Blue Suns, Bloodpack, and Eclipse under her rule. She's smart enough to realise that it’s in her interest to help combat the Reaper threat, and that she has the means to rally these disparate factions into a joint force for that purpose; and her own personal power of course.

Under any other circumstances, helping a crime lord amass more power would be a capital offence, but we need more guns on the ground, and Aria’s coalition presents an opportunity to take advantage of a resource that would otherwise be very difficult to utilize. I am officially requesting permission from Alliance Command to proceed with perhaps the most unorthodox mission ever undertaken by an Alliance officer.

--> Orders received. I am authorized to solidify Aria's control of the Terminus gangs, and ordered to take all reasonable measures to obtain Aria's cooperation against the Reapers.

As part of our deal with T’Bitch, I will help her retake Omega and its stores of Ezo. The Cerberus occupation force there is commanded by Oleg Petrovsky, one of the Illusive Man’s top military strategists. He should prove a tough nut to crack. Aria has made it clear she cannot operate with my combat team. She named no names, but it seems perfectly obvious the individual in question is Garrus. Archangel united the merc bands once before in a group effort to kill him. Bringing my best friend along would in this particular case be inadvisable.

I’m leaving the Normandy under Ashley’s command: her orders are to continue running standard interference against Reaper occupation forces. Williams knows the ship and crew, and should have little difficulty keeping the Normandy intact and her crew alive.

I can't say I'm looking forward to seeing Omega again. Aria's company is also something I'd hoped to avoid. It's no accident such a waspish and unprincipled individual feels at home on that filthy rock.

--> Aria's coalition has breached the Cerberus defence fleet and engaged the entrenched enemy in a street-to-street, door-to-door fight through the dark and dirty streets of Omega, the garish and neon lights of shady vendors illuminating a gruelling and savage fight between mutated soldiers and murderous hoodlums. The run-of-the-mill gang warfare of Omega has merely been replaced by an augmented and intensified variant, one where the usual factions have been united by the intrusion of a new adversary, the jack-booted control of Cerberus domination.

We've got our first foothold, now it's time to make our next move. Cerberus has blocked off most of the avenues of advance with energy barriers. Aria's engineers are trying to find a way to bypass control directly, but with little success. There are, however, chinks in the armour. A small team can bypass the barriers through maintenance routes without attracting attention. Aria's ensuring all teams are ready to assault the moment the shields go down.

--> I've received an encrypted transmission from Ashley. She's caught wind of some Cerberus defectors on the run in the Minos Wasteland, and is taking the Normandy in to investigate. Apparently she found it necessary to correct Javik's assumption that the goal is to kill the defectors.

She also relayed a surprising update from Hackett. The Crucible is being built far faster than I'd anticipated; Alliance engineers have through herculean effort completed perhaps fifty percent of the known work. Once decoded, the plans are easily translated for seamless construction. But even at this late hour, we still don’t know how it will utilize the massive power it stores. The means for its application, the Catalyst, is still a complete mystery.

Despite being our single most well-informed expert on Protheans, never in all of her work did Liara find anything regarding the Catalyst, and neither her extensive network of intelligence nor any government and their official archives hold a solid lead on what it might be. Javik is himself a Prothean soldier, and doesn't know squat; not surprising as this Catalyst was obviously a tremendous military secret of the Protheans. They apparently safeguarded this secret very well. So well perhaps, we may never discover it.

What an incredible irony. We've discovered and are well on our way to completing the designs for this Prothean super-weapon, only to have the same security of knowledge that preserved the plans for our time prevent us from finding the last and crucial component. Could such success be achieved only to be thwarted by one final, obstinate, detail? God send that our fate will not prove so fickle.

--> Aria and I have made contact with an old friend of hers. Nyreen Kandros, ex Turian military, it seems she and Aria have a history. Apparently they parted ways when their incompatibilities grew more clear than infatuation. In Aria's sneering words, Kandros “practically oozes virtue.” It's hard to see how this upright Turian soldier found anything compelling in Aria. I personally find our Asari confederate to be a pain in the neck.

Kandros is running an underground network of militants in opposition to the Cerberus occupation. They call themselves the Talons. She's agreed to coordinate with our assault, on the condition that we ensure the safety of civilians. It seems she not only commandeered this local gang she now commands, she's whipped them into shape to resemble a regular militia, uniformed and orderly. The ranks all seem to bear a strong loyalty for their leader. They speak of her with genuine regard, and salute with more than token spirit as she passes by. I admit I'm impressed Kandros successfully transformed what had been an ordinary gang of lowlifes into a disciplined and conscientious defence force that prioritizes safety of civilians over their own lives.

All forces are set. Petrovsky's defences are waiting for us. He thinks this is a game of chess. He's about to find out that his enemies don't play chess. They play dirty.

This is going to be bloody.

--> Operation complete. Omega is under Aria’s control. The Cerberus forces there have been driven out, Petrovsky taken prisoner. Aria had wanted to kill him, and I’d have had no objection, but she let him live long enough to surrender. Given that he’d ordered his men to stand down and formally asked for quarter, I could not in good conscience stand by while Aria strangled him. Aria and I nearly came to blows when I demanded she desist. But the matter is resolved, and Aria will be sending Omega’s considerable supply of Ezo to the Alliance, in addition to fielding her forces alongside the Alliance soldiers in combat.

Kandros is dead. She sacrificed herself to save civilians from Cerberus monsters. It appears Cerberus is not content merely to modify their soldiers using Reaper methods, they’ve begun going the whole hog and manufacturing monsters of their own design from the bodies of prisoners. It is becoming more and more obvious that, whatever the Illusive Man’s original intentions were, Cerberus is irredeemable. Everything the Reapers are doing, Cerberus is doing, only slower.

With Kandros gone, it's unclear what will happen to her followers. The Talons will almost certainly fall under Aria's command. Whether they will maintain their own structure and discipline without their leader remains to be seen. Omega needs Kandros. One hopes her example, her spirit, will not be forgotten. I've sent a report to the Turian military, with a recommendation for Kandros' posthumous exoneration and commendation.

I now take my leave of Aria, and Omega. Normandy awaits!

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18 Demon of the Night Winds

--> Sometimes I think Garrus doesn’t sleep. Every time I check in on him he’s always tinkering and tuning restlessly in the main battery. “Calibrations,” he’ll say, and bury himself in his work again. He’s grown more reckless in combat, taking needless risks with no apparent regard for his own safety. The lives of his lost crew weigh heavily upon him. He told me how his squad died. They were betrayed by one within their own ranks. The traitor, a Turian named Sidonis, is unaccounted for. When Garrus finally finds the one who betrayed them, that man’s life won’t be worth a spent thermal clip.

Miranda seems to have taken courtesy on my part as some kind of suggestion. I don’t know if she’s contracted a genuine crush, perhaps on a backswing from recently-deceased Niket, or if this is some sort of plot to tie me more tightly to Cerberus, to compromise my judgement and learn my inner thoughts. Either way, I want nothing to do with it. I wish the woman would at least put some decent clothes on. Her face alone is distracting enough without flaunting her everything in plain view.

Jack doesn’t mingle much with the crew. She spends all of her time lurking in her lair staked out in the shadowed recesses of the ship’s innards. The engineers have begun scheduling their maintenance with her rare vacancies of the area when I have her out in the field. I still haven’t taken her to blow up Pragia yet, and her impatience is tangible. It’s not healthy for the Normandy to have a disgruntled and anxious super-biotic fuming silently in its bowels.

Joker and EDI are constantly squabbling. If I didn’t know better, just listening to them across the bridge, I’d think they were an old married couple or something.

Samara has asked that we divert to Omega where her target landed. She tells me the fugitive, an Asari with centuries of regular murders, is what her people call an Ardat Yakshi, or Demon of the Night Winds. A rare genetic fluke found only in purebloods, these Asari cannot mate without destroying their partner’s mind. The effect becomes a narcotic to the Ardat Yakshi, and killing becomes addictive. When the condition is detected in a young Asari, they are offered a simple choice: to live a life of monitored seclusion, or to die. This Ardat Yakshi, Morinth, fled. She has evaded pursuit for centuries, and the corpses of those who have lain with her number in the thousands. Samara has devoted four hundred years of her life to tracking down this one Ardat Yakshi, her daughter. When she finds Morinth, she will kill her.

I’m starting to understand why Samara chooses to bind herself to the Justicar code.

Setting course for Omega.

--> Morinth’s presence on Omega confirmed. Her latest victim, a reclusive human girl with artistic talent, was declared a death of brain haemorrhage. That may be technically accurate. Given information found in the girl’s journal, Morinth can likely be found in the VIP section of Afterlife.

Samara wants to handle this differently from my inclination. I’d simply wait in ambush in sight of Afterlife with Garrus and Thane. As soon as Morinth walks out, she receives three high-calibre sniper bullets in the head. Samara thinks it too risky. Having evaded pursuit for centuries, Morinth is naturally cagey and slippery. She might, against all odds, get wind of us and simply disappear again. Or she might survive lethal injury long enough to kill surrounding innocents in a flurry of biotic power amidst her death throes.

Instead, Samara wants me to pose as a potential victim, to lure Morinth out and lower her guard. Morinth is selective in her choice of prey, singling out artists and those who stand out. I daresay I could make myself noticeable among the civilians and thugs in Afterlife easily enough. Once I’ve gotten her attention, I am to engage her in conversation and take the encounter to her apartment, where Samara will confront her and conclude her quest.

I do not like this. Not one little bit. I’ll be walking right into the spider’s web. A most sinister and distasteful spider at that. But to be fair the plan does have its merits. It improves the odds of successfully catching Morinth and limits the chances of civilian casualties. But I still don’t like it. Nevertheless, this is Samara’s mission, and her plan is the most sound. We’ll do it her way. Garrus is furious at being left out, and insists on covering me from a discreet distance the whole time. I’ve agreed, on the grounds that he take every precaution against detection and hold fire unless absolutely necessary. This kill is rightfully Samara’s.

--> Mission complete. The Spider is dead. Making an impression on Morinth was a breeze. Lulling her into a state of greedy assurance was easy. The hard part was resisting the impulse to break her neck the moment I was within arm’s reach. I understand now another reason why Samara chose the plan she did. It wasn’t just to protect bystanders or put Morinth off-guard. It was a trial; giving Morinth one last chance to prove herself to be other than a murderer. But Morinth failed the test. She took the bait and sought to devour the proffered victim. Samara then concluded her four-hundred-year mission, and killed her daughter in single combat.

I have no children of my own. What must it mean to Samara, I cannot imagine. There is nothing I can say to ease the pain. Samara has done the only thing that could be done. It should never have needed to be.

But justice is now served. The Monster is destroyed, and the dead now can rest in peace.

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10 Omega: The Thug, The Professor, and The Vigilante.

--> Talk about too good to be true. The promised ship, SR2, turns out be nothing less than a duplicate Normandy, essentially the same vessel with a few tweaks and Cerberus markings. How on Earth did Cerberus manage to replicate the most advanced warship in the Alliance fleet? The must have left moles behind when they cut ties, or reinfiltrated since. Either way, it certainly doesn’t speak well for Alliance security.

And that’s not all. I’ve now met the Ship’s pilot, none other than Joker. The silly fellow seems not the slightest bit worried about working with Cerberus. Even Dr. Chakwas is aboard, though she insists she is working for me, not Cerberus. Unlike Joker who joined because he was discharged and grounded after the destruction of the SR1, Chakwas deliberately quit and sought out position aboard the SR2 for the chance to aid me in the fight against the Collectors. I am of course, delighted to have them here, but as it stands, they run almost as good a chance as me of being compromised. I haven’t said anything about it to them yet. Not on board the new Normandy.

The ship is the same, but different. Beyond the replacement of Alliance markings with Cerberus logos, the whole ship feels like a flying lab, a sterile science experiment. I miss the old Normandy, my mind free from doubts, more than I can say.

Another surprising revelation is the presence of an AI aboard the Normandy. Enhanced Defence Intelligence, or EDI, as the crew call her, is an experimental advancement in cyberwarfare. Essentially a super hacking and counter-hacking asset, she can in theory shut down or overload the systems of nearby ships, and simultaneously run advanced defence against such attacks on the Normandy. It remains to be seen just how effective such innovative and green tactics turn out. Cerberus has not been entirely foolhardy in creation of such a powerful and dangerous AI. Despite possessing self-awareness and free will, EDI is checked by software shackles. She cannot commandeer the Normandy, nor can she vacate her hardware on deck three. She also cannot divulge Cerberus secrets. I’ve tested that last one.

We’re here to stop the Collectors. We’ll need a team; fighters and at least one scientist, to study the Collectors and develop countermeasures to protect us from the devastating swarms they open their attacks with. Looking over the dossiers, and some brief research of my own, I’ve decided to recruit Mordin Solus, a Salarian scientist and ex-STG operative. He holds a reputation for both scientific brilliance and combat aptitude. He is currently operating a charitable clinic on the asteroid Omega.

Also on Omega is a most promising-sounding individual, a Turian vigilante called Archangel. The man has single-handedly waged a war on the ruthless criminal elements that dominate the region for some time, ambushing their thugs and sabotaging their operations to remarkable effect. It seems he's done considerable damage to the disparate factions, enough that they have stopped killing their each other and are now working together to trap and kill him. One idealist successfully carrying out a solo-war against multiple heavily armed and organized criminal groups sounds like the kind of deadly and principled man I could use.

Another, far less likeable, character on Omega is a merc named Zaeed Massani. I would have passed him up, but Cerberus has apparently already paid him to join the mission. I don't like his reputation of bloodthirsty and indiscriminate killing. But he is supposed to be the most sought-after bounty-hunter in the Galaxy, and I need that kind of skill to fight Collectors. Moreover, if I’m going to be taking along decent and principled people, a selfless doctor and a fearless vigilante, into what may very well be a suicide mission, I might as well take a violent creep. Better his gun follow my orders than someone else’s.

--> I’ve spoken with the closest thing Omega has to a political head, an arrogant Asari crimelord named Aria T’Loak. She holds the balance of power against the other, smaller factions, and as far as crime bosses go, isn't all that bad. She provides about the only order and stability Omega has. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s a pain in the proverbial neck. 

 

It seems Dr. Solus is combating a plague that appeared on the massive Omega station two weeks ago. Aria has that district locked down to prevent the disease from spreading. Archangel, she tells me, is in imminent danger. He’s trapped in his hideout with three major mercenary gangs laying siege; Blue Suns, Bloodpack, and Eclipse. They have him cornered, but are having trouble finishing the job. They’ve started hiring anyone with a gun as cannon fodder.

The professor can wait. It sounds like Archangel doesn’t have much time. Aria has washed her hands of the matter. Short-sighted purple-skinned jackass. Archangel omitted her from his attacks, recognizing her representing the only stability on the station I presume, and here she is content to sit on her behind while he gets pinned down and killed. Even from a purely self-serving point of view, one would expect her to realise that Archangel’s continued presence weakens her enemies. And should he be killed, having forced her enemies to unite against him, he has now created what would otherwise have been a most unlikely coalition that may turn and successfully defeat her.

I’ve already sent Massani back to the ship with a beating to think about; I’d found him in the process of stomping an unfortunate Batarian’s face in. When I intervened, the Batarian ran off before I could ascertain the extent of his injuries. A brute like Massani respects only brute strength. And by golly I’ll see to it he behaves himself under my command.

We’re going to infiltrate the Blue Sun’s recruiting list. Once we’re on sight, we can case the situation and determine how to extract Archangel.

--> I could leap and shout for joy. Garrus! That bloody great dear fool had nearly gotten himself killed. As it was, we barely got him out of there alive. It seems the name “Archangel” is what the locals started calling him when he began killing murderous thugs. He had acquired a team of various individuals who also wanted to fight back against the gangs; it seems they all died before we arrived.

In the ensuing fight we joined at Garrus’s hideout, the three gangs laying siege launched everything they had at us. Now most of them are dead, and Garrus is recovering from an explosion. Had his armour not held up, or Chakwas not worked her magic promptly, the rumours of his death now spreading through Omega would be accurate.

Garrus is back on his feet, but the side of his face will stand testament to that battle for the rest of his life. Even with the advantages of modern medigel and cybernetics, he should still be abed for at least a week after what he went through. But no, the stubborn fellow is up and about, poking around the forward battery, and assures me he’s ready for active duty whenever I need him. He never even considered not joining me, didn’t even ask what the mission was or why I was working with Cerberus. He shouldn’t trust me so easily. He doesn’t even have any proof that I am actually me.

I got a message from a woman on Omega, the wife of one of Garrus’s squad. She says Garrus blames himself for what happened to his men, and needs help seeing that it’s not his fault. No wonder Garrus can’t abide to be in bed with nothing to do, nothing to keep his thoughts from ceaselessly naming the men who died under his command. Far better to keep busy, reconfiguring the Normandy’s weapons, charging prematurely back out into danger, anything but inactivity. I’ve had men die under my command. I’ve even had to order their deaths. But to have seen your entire squad get wiped out, tormented by the knowledge that had you done something different they might still be alive...

Garrus isn’t the sort to throw in the towel, but his already reckless nature may have turned into a blatant disregard for his own life. I need him watching my back, but I think he needs me just as much.

--> We've helped Dr. Solus to cure the plague on Omega. He’d already formulated a cure, and only needed our aid to disperse it. Leaving his clinic in the hands of his assistant, the chipper Salarian professor was quite happy to embrace a new challenge. A chatterbox of a deductionist, Dr. Solus is instantly likeable. The sort of chap who provided medical treatment free of charge to the citizens of Omega, and single-handedly whupped the thugs who tried to extort protection money out of him. Cerberus isn't exactly a secret, nor are the Collectors, but Dr. Solus already knew nearly as much as we. He seems positively delighted with the prospect of pitting his scientific skill against the Collectors, and has buckled down with cheery industriousness to the task of developing a countermeasure to the Swarms from the data and samples we collected on Freedom’s Progress.

Funny thing about the Omega Plague. Cross-species viable, airborne propagating, near perfect mortality rate, it affects every species exposed to it: Asari, Salarian, Turian, Batarian, even Krogan. The only species immune were Vorcha and Humans. As Vorcha are already immune to diseases and too primitive to have concocted a biological weapon, everyone on the station assumes the Plague to have been created by Humans. But the Vorcha we fought in our dispersal of the cure bragged about the Collectors making the strong. Dr. Solus also said he suspects the Collectors were responsible for the Plague, that the Vorcha on Omega were tasked with dispersing it to test its effects. Why Humans would be exempt from contamination is still a mystery.

--> Having completed our business in the Sahbarik System, we are now en route to the Citadel. Councillor Anderson has asked that I explain myself and my new affiliation in person, if I am indeed alive as rumoured. This is a significant risk. Going to the Citadel, reporting to Councillor Anderson, is everything short of officially surrendering to the Alliance. It is highly likely Anderson may arrest me, but it’s a chance I have to take. He may not believe a word I say, but I owe it to him to explain my reappearance and actions.

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