36 A Cure for the Genophage

--> The Salarian Dalatrass has finally agreed upon a place and time for meeting. Having stalled and dithered for so long, I expect she has little intention of playing ball now that she’s finally deigned to partake in our summit.

This will be a tense meeting. Everyone knows what Wrex will demand in return for military aid: a cure for the Genophage.

Our backs are to the wall, we’re facing imminent extinction, and the Krogan hold the diplomatic advantage. The ethics of the Genophage are arguable; it may have been the lesser of available evils at the time. I’m just glad the decision was not mine to make. But now, we have no choice. It’s either provide the Krogan with a cure and risk revival of the Krogan rebellions after the Reapers are defeated, or the Reapers destroy us all now.

I’ve asked Liara to get me everything she has on the Dalatrass. We need this deal, and we’ll need political leverage.

As for the possibility of actually formulating a cure, our best chance of that lies in the brilliant Dr. Mordin Solus. He left the Normandy with, among other things, possession of the data from Maelon’s research on the matter. He didn't say where he was going. We need him, and fast, but even Liara has no intel that could give a hint of his whereabouts. Mordin is conscientious as well as capable. I expect the wily Salarian will pop up in an unexpected place.

Ashley has been offered status as a Spectre. Udina is quite keen on getting Humanity as much leverage as possible. Despite the advantages it affords, I’m not very happy with me being a Spectre; I object to the position on principle. No one should be above the law. It's true I needed the autonomy to track down Saren without political delay, but I can’t very well see what good it will do Ashley to hold Spectre authority. Nevertheless, it’s her decision. At the very least, it is an honour to be chosen for such a select role.

--> As expected, Wrex has demanded a cure in return for Krogan boots on Palaven. But unexpectedly, his demands were not delivered on a bare table: he is already on top of the matter. He knew about Maelon and his experiments on Krogan females. More than that, he’d found out about a few females that survived. These females stand a good chance of, if not being immune themselves, at least containing the beginnings of a cure. Wrex then declared that the females had been taken from Tuchanka by the Salarians, and demanded they be returned forthwith.

The Salarian Dalatrass is not only ornery and obstinate, she is also stupid and grossly incompetent. First she failed to lie convincingly about the Krogan females, then she caved in and told us where they were being held the moment she was put under pressure. I didn't even need to pull Liara's intel. The most she accomplished was to ask what good it would do her people to cure the Genophage, apparently missing the context of Reaper threat, then hurl a vague and petulant threat after me as I left the room, as though I were somehow personally responsible for the straits of desperation we find ourselves in.

As an independent in this matter, and with the authority and autonomy afforded by my position as a Council Spectre, I can oversee the release of the Krogan females from Surkesh into Wrex’s custody.

--> Surkesh is in sight, approaching the research base where the females are being held. STG Control is stalling. This had better not go south, or Wrex will likely start a one-man war against the entire Salarian homeworld.

--> Cerberus got wind of the females, and attacked the STG base shortly after we arrived. Only one of the females was alive when we got there. The Salarians hadn’t killed them: Maelon’s treatments had simply caught up with them. Mordin Solus [ta-daa] was there as special consultant. It is thanks to him that even one survived. Eve, as Mordin dubbed her, will live healthfully, and holds within her the blueprint for a full cure for all Krogan.

Cerberus tried very hard to kill Eve. They may not be working for the Reapers, but they could hardly be more trouble if they were.

Eve is an anomaly not seen in fourteen hundred years: a healthy Krogan female capable of safely and dependably bearing children. Wrex is adamant: he will not lift one finger to aid Palaven until all Krogan receive that same immunity. It will take time for Mordin to synthesize a proper cure from Eve’s cells. Far less time than if we were starting from scratch, days instead of years. But at a time like this, every day is counted dearly. I can certainly understand Wrex’s position. He has to look out for his own people’s survival beyond this war, and has good reason to demand results up front. Nevertheless, this delay is not one lightly taken.

The Alliance has officially begun construction of the Prothean device. It’s location is a carefully guarded secret: even I don’t know where it is. If the Reapers were to find it, there goes the war.

Our engineers have dubbed it Project Crucible. An appropriate choice of name. Successfully completing this device will be a trial indeed, and the results will determine the fate of the entire Galaxy for the countless millennia that lie ahead between us and the end of time. Will this be the last of all Cycles? Will we stop the Reapers once and for all? Or will we fail like all every other race before us, becoming just another entry in the long list of civilizations crushed by the Reapers? What lengths will we have to go to win?

Javik scoffs at the suggestion that we can win this war with honour intact. He said to us “stand on the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honour matters.”

A rubbish question if I ever hear one. One way or another, we all die. In the end, honour is all that matters.

The dead know that better than anyone.

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35 Survivor

--> Cerberus just gets worse and worse. They’re carrying out a full-scale attack on Eden Prime. This isn’t just a raid, hit and run. This is an occupation. Our forces are overtaxed as it is, and the resistance on Eden Prime has had but minimal aid from the Alliance.

Hackett has issued a priority order to the Normandy. Cerberus is looking for something specific on Eden Prime. Something Prothean. We don’t know anything else at this time, but anything Prothean is by definition worthwhile, and if Cerberus has devoted a full-scale invasion and occupation force in search of this artifact, it must something big.  Guess there was more to that dig in 83 than we'd thought.

--> Mission complete. It wasn’t a Prothean artifact Cerberus was after. It was an actual Prothean. Years ago we’d found Prothean stasis pods on Ilos. Those failed from power loss. This one didn’t. Out of thousands of Protheans sleeping deep beneath the surface of Eden Prime, one survived. We found a living Prothean.

He calls himself Javik. He possesses telepathic ability even more advanced than that of an Asari, more or less the same method by which the Beacons communicated their message, and can after only brief contact speak English fluently, if contemptuously. This bitter and surly fellow constantly refers to the “primitives” that surround him with intense disdain.

He’s a soldier, not a scientist or an engineer, and knows no more than we about the Prothean super-weapon. Nevertheless his help will prove invaluable. He cannot tell us how best to build it or what it does, but he can provide us with accurate translation for the Prothean script the plans are provided in. Even Liara, our best Prothean expert, knows only a little of the Prothean language. Getting full translation of the instructions will cut short the decryption process and allow construction to begin immediately.

Beyond that, Javik’s true power lies in what he represents. After the Battle of the Citadel and the destruction of Sovereign, I was seen as the embodiment of Humanity’s defiance of the Reapers. When I died, The Illusive Man moved mountains to have me revived (while he was still interested in fighting the Reapers), to ensure that the symbol of the Reaper’s failure was seen alive and fighting. By that same principle, Javik represents the defiance of the entire Prothean race; he is the Survivor of his cycle, living proof of the Reapers’ failure to exterminate his kind.

Javik has agreed to fight alongside us against the Reapers. For now, staying with the Normandy offers optimal exposure, both diplomatic and combat. Future arrangements can occur if necessary. Once the upcoming summit is complete and the terms of cooperation between the species have been determined and agreed upon, Javik will be asked to either go to the Citadel for diplomatic employment, or join the frontlines at a point of his choosing. I sincerely doubt Javik will be inclined to sit quietly on the Citadel giving speeches while there are Reapers to be killed. That maverick means business.

Garrus told me of a Turian proverb: if even one survivor is left standing after a war, it was not in vain. In this context, that saying holds true. Let the whole Galaxy see the Survivor of the last cycle alive and fighting. Let the Reapers know of their failure. It is yet to be determined whether or not they can feel fear. We shall see.

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34 The Means of Resistance

--> There’s something not quite right here. A vague doubt has been growing in the back of my mind for several weeks, with precious little time to spare for examination; only now that I turn to address it do I comprehend the astounding weight of its implications.

To the best of our knowledge, a certain pattern has remained an absolute constant in the execution of every Reaper invasion: across all previous cycles, the Reapers commenced their invasion by signalling the Citadel Keepers to open the station, actually a large mass relay, to where the Reapers hid in dark space. The Reapers would then surge through and capture the Citadel, and through it, control of the entire Mass Relay network. All movement, all communication, between star clusters instantly shut down, each star system isolated and vulnerable, each fleet and world a hanging fruit for the Reapers to pluck at their leisure. So it was for the Protheans before us.

But unlike previous cycles, the Protheans successfully laid the groundwork for the survival of the next cycle. A team of Prothean scientists hidden in a top-secret research bunker on the planet Ilos survived the Reaper invasion, suspending themselves in stasis until the centuries-long harvesting of the galaxy was complete, and the Reapers withdrew back to dark space. The surviving scientists, no more than a dozen in number, completed their design on Ilos: a small-scale secondary-class Mass Relay, aimed right into the heart of the Citadel. A one-way trip, they went to the Citadel, and rewrote the Keepers’ reception protocols, rendering Reaper signals meaningless.

When the time for our Reaper invasion came, when Sovereign, the Reaper assigned to hide in the Galaxy and choose the time, signalled the Keepers to open the Citadel, they ignored him. So he sought another way into the Citadel, a Turian Spectre named Saren Arterius. With an army of Geth at his back, Saren boarded the Citadel through the Prothean relay, or Conduit as they called it. A fierce battle ensued in and around the Citadel, with the timely arrival of the Alliance fleets putting an end to the Reaper, driving off his Geth like so many jackals. The Reaper invasion had been thwarted. For a time.

The Reapers were denied their easy one-step trip back into the heart of the Galaxy, but they still had other means. They began the long trek on foot, so to speak, and arrived here after three years of FTL space travel. Their course took them through Batarian space first, but their primary goal was the homeworld of those minuscule insolents responsible for the death of Sovereign: Earth.

The Reapers are an arrogant breed, and resented in the extreme the temerity of primitive and puny Humans successfully thwarting them. But once Earth was taken, why not proceed with their established strategy? Once into the Relay network, they could reach the Citadel in less than twenty-four hours. Why on Earth are they instead crawling through the Galaxy in their gruesome conquest upon our people while still leaving us the means to manoeuvre? They could still seize the Citadel, and through it the Relays. But this time around, they have so far completely ignored the Citadel. It cannot be through idiocy; Reapers are cunning and adaptive, and would never abandon in entirety a tried-and-true strategy because the first step was compromised. It cannot be through hubris; the Reapers are taking losses only because our fleets can still mass, evade, and strike where they choose.

The only possible solution is that something has changed about the Citadel. This change must have occurred after the battle against Sovereign. I know for a fact that the Citadel’s control of the Relay network was in place at the time of that battle: Saren used it to lock out all Relay access to the Citadel to prevent both escape and reinforcement, and I used the same means to open the Relays again for the Alliance Fleet.

So what happened? Is that control blocked somehow? Could it be that, despite their denial, for all of their adamant insistence that Reapers were a myth and Sovereign an isolated threat, the Citadel Council actually did something about it? That they realised their greatest strength, the Citadel’s control of the Relays, was also their greatest weakness, that should any enemy accomplish what Saren so nearly achieved, all resistance across the Galaxy would be crippled and blind? Did the Council uncouple the Citadel from control of the Relays?  If so, then we owe our only means of resistance to the Citadel Council.

I have no conclusive evidence, but this hypothesis matches all of the available data, and explains an otherwise inexplicable mystery.

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33 Grissom Academy

--> Cerberus Cruiser with Fighter escort sighted at Grissom. Communications out of the station are being jammed, but we've managed to make contact with a Lieutenant Sanders who says she has students still inside.

The Normandy will draw off the Fighters and cause a diversion while the away-team extracts the students in the shuttle. We'll have to rendezvous outside of system.

--> Extraction complete, students are safe. Illusive Man thwarted again.

Cerberus never ceases to surprise me. I'd honestly thought that Mars would constitute the extent of their hostilities against us. But I'd been wrong: this attempt to abduct our students from Grissom Academy is not their only offence since Mars, merely the latest and most dangerous since that first outrage. Ever since their failed attempt to snatch away the Prothean Plans they've ignored all attempts at negotiation and harassed and harried the Alliance at every possible turn, culminating in this failed abduction attempt.

At this point it seems there is nothing they will not do to hamper our war effort, though why is still a mystery.

There’s never been any doubt in my mind that Cerberus was the enemy, but you’d think, if anything could unite us in common cause, it would be the arrival of a mutual enemy hell-bent on destroying us all. Apparently such is not the case.

Hostile or not, Cerberus should not even be a factor at this time. Upon first returning to the Alliance, I had brought with me an intel dump on Cerberus big enough to choke a bureau for months. I don’t know if Cerberus’ resources exceeded the scope of the intel to such a degree as to render that exposure ineffectual, or if their influence in the Alliance was strong enough to throw sand in the cogs and keep the files locked up. In either case, Cerberus is still alive and strong, and kicking the Alliance in the shins every chance they get.

Fortunately we rescued some fairly adept shins today, shins that are good and ready to do some kicking back. It's clear the students have not yet reached their full potential: if they had then my services would not have been needed. Nevertheless our best and brightest were trained at that school, and are eager to see some action. The biotics will, with supervision, be assigned front-line combat roles supporting our soldiers engaging Reaper forces; revenge against Cerberus will have to wait.

The tech students, along with David Archer who has recovered from his horrific condition remarkably well, will be lending their aid in the building of the Prothean Device. It is quite possible that younger minds will see solutions that older scientists would overlook.

Jack was at Grissom Academy, serving as the students favourite combat instructor, and was instrumental in ensuring the their escape, as much through her surprising leadership as by biotic power.

The Illusive Man tried and failed to contain Jack as a child. Now having escaped from his machinations, she stands between him and other innocents that he would subject to the same tortures that she endured at his hands.

A woman who went through what she did, captured in her infancy and raised to become an inhumane monster of destruction, ought to be a wrecked and crippled specimen of humanity, incapable of empathy or caring for others. Instead, I find her thriving amidst her students, a veritable momma bear of rough love and protection for them. I’m more glad than I can say to see her find goodness in herself for others, to see her find a purpose other than destruction. Not that she’ll lack outlet for her able talents in that regard. There’s Reapers enough for all. Jack is overseeing the kids’ deployment in combat roles. So long as they’re led by “The Psychotic Biotic,” there is little than can stand before them.

An ominous hint was found in captured Cerberus briefings on the mission to Grissom Academy. Mention of planned indoctrination of the prisoners prompts the question of whether Cerberus is still an independent player. Does “indoctrination” in this context mean the dreaded results of prolonged Reaper contact, or does it refer more conventional methods of brainwashing? The new modifications Cerberus is making to its troops, eerily Husk-like in appearance, do not bode well.

The Illusive Man mentioned through com projection on Mars that he wanted to control the Reapers instead of destroying them. He’s mad. If that madness costs us this war, I’ll kill him myself if I have to follow his damned soul to hell to do it.

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32 The Ensuing War

--> Hackett has assigned us rescue of SSV Agincourt. Agincourt went missing behind enemy lines and is presumably damaged and unable to respond: last reported position was Farinata system.

--> Agincourt recovered, ship and crew accounted for and ready for action. Still missing are the SSV Nairobi, and SSV Leipzig, the first in the Ming system, the second in Pamyat. I've offered to take the Normandy in again, and been granted permission.

--> Nairobi and Leipzig recovered. Leipzig was the first Alliance vessel to field test the Normandy's Thanix Cannon. Nairobi completely missed the failed defence of the Sol System. Her captain is eager to amend the record.

--> Finding something as small as a ship in space is painstaking business, especially when that ship is doing its utmost to remain hidden from hostile forces. Weeks have passed, long enough for Ashley to get begin walking again, and still the war summit hasn’t happened. Primarch Victus is patient, but at this point he looks about ready to put his Turian head through a wall, and I don’t blame him. This is no time for posturing and petty politics. Every day that passes more people die. The time for action is now.

At least Normandy has not been idle. Over the past few weeks, we've not only recovered the three Alliance ships assigned, we’ve rescued several other smaller support craft and over a dozen isolated combat teams trapped in hiding behind enemy lines, besides conducting reconnaissance and covert strikes against vulnerable Reaper forces as opportunity permits. 

The Normandy is proving uniquely suited to rescue work: with our superior speed and stealth, we can scout ahead and ensure a safe rout for a ship that didn’t dare show its nose for fear of being spotted. Failing such subtle methods, the Normandy can instead run loudly amok and play decoy, casting aside stealth and depending solely upon her fantastic speed to save herself. Joker seems to positively delight in zipping past Reapers and leading them on a wild goose chase. He’s even started taunting the Reapers at such times, singing at them a gleeful song of own devising: “Old fat reaper chasing after me, Can’t catch S-S-V Normandy. Harbinger, Harbinger, won’t you stop, stop your reaping and look for me.” If it helps him keep his nerve while evading certain death by a margin of a few hundred meters, then let him sing. Besides, I think it really does annoy them.

I asked Liara why she had chosen to operate her network as Shadow Broker from the Normandy when all links were tied in to her ship on Hagalaz. I was surprised when she told me her ship no longer existed. She’d taken what she could store in a shuttle with Feron, evacuated the crew, then rammed the ship into a Cerberus cruiser. The Shadow Broker’s ship had no long-range mobility, so being found by Cerberus had been inevitable. Cerberus was clearly not expecting Liara to so easily part with the vessel. But the loss was a nominal one; Liara still has all of her contacts and resources, and continues to utilize the monumental assets with a deft and caring hand.

--> Ashley has recovered sufficiently to begin physical therapy. The doctors say she’s past the danger of long-term cognitive impairment. Given time, she’ll make a full recovery. Thank goodness. So many people have died already, so many loved ones lost and so many more yet to die, and Ashley survives. This chance, so nearly lost, is more than she or I have the right to ask for. We’ve begun talking. There’s a lot to sort out between us. I begin to see once again the same light in her eyes that shone there before Cerberus.

Alliance intel has tentatively identified Harbinger as one of the Reapers to attack Earth. The exact numbers of the enemy, ranging across the Galaxy, are uncertain, but our most optimistic estimates peg them at about two hundred Sovereign class capital ships, with perhaps two to three times that number of smaller, destroyer class Reapers, with assorted troop transports and processing ships. Of course, their infantry increase proportionately as ours decreases.

When we fought and killed our first Reaper, Sovereign, it took the combined firepower of the entire Arcturus Fleet to bring it down. We’ve upgraded our ships offensive and defensive capabilities since then, due in large part to using tech from the dead Reaper. Now we can overpower a Reaper with far better odds, only four Dreadnoughts being needed to breach its shields. 

 Only four. Ha. Three years ago the Alliance Navy only fielded five Dreadnoughts, and they don’t exactly breed like rabbits. Our improvements have changed the playing field dramatically; instead of a curb stomp battle of a bear vs a hamster, we have a respectable losing proposition akin to a fight between a bear and house cat. The defining principle of Alliance military strategy, “meet strength with weakness and weakness with strength,” is as relevant now as ever, but for the foreseeable future we’ll be exercising the first part more than the second. Whatever that Prothean device is supposed to do, it had better be good.

In the short few weeks since the Reapers hit, we’ve lost Arcturus Station, the Hades Gamma Cluster, and the Sol system. Hackett sacrificed the entire Second Fleet to buy the Third and Fifth time to escape. Anderson and whatever is left of the ground resistance are on their own. Colonies are being lost faster than we can evacuate them. Palaven is still in the balance, but that could change at any time. We need to tip the balance of power in our favour; we need the Krogan. And if the Rachni intend to deliver on their promise, now is the time.

--> Emergency at Grissom Academy. They'd been ordered to evacuate before the Reapers finally send something their way, and their acknowledgement has been received: falsified.

Cerberus involvement is suspected, and the Normandy is en route at full speed. We've not been assigned, but I'll not wait for that: I've sent in the preliminary report, and will sort out the official details afterwards. The last thing I want to hear is that our young officers in training there have been abducted by Cerberus; I know their methods: those students would be better off dead.

As if we didn't have enough trouble on our hands. Damn the Illusive Man.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

31 Menae

--> We have just passed the boundaries of Turian space. I've ordered the now expanded crew run check and double check on all systems. We can't afford the slightest hitch here. We'll not be running away from a war zone this time, but instead diving straight into the heart of the fray. It would never do to offer the Primarch a ride only to be embarrassed by a flat tire and capture by giant space lobsters.

Liara has set up shop in Miranda's old office, filling it to the rafters with various and sundry servers and monitors and mechanisms I know not the purpose of. She is now multitasking overtime, balancing her role as Shadow Broker in assessing and managing tremendous resources and intelligence to aid the Alliance and gather material for the Prothean device, and studying the device's blueprints herself in effort to aid construction, all while assuring me she's still ready for combat. While I appreciate the support, it would be the height of miscalculation to heedlessly pull her away from her more crucial work while there are dedicated soldiers standing ready for combat. She'll likely need diversion from time to time to prevent working herself mad at her desk, but her talents are far more urgently needed in shining light upon the secrets of this mysterious Prothean contraption.

What a surprise it would be if this oversized wonder gadget were to simply blow up in our faces.

In addition to the recruits from the embassy, Engineer Adams is back on board, as is Dr. Chakwas. It is cheering to see the ship once more manned by old friends. Some of them, anyway. There are a lot of new faces among the crew, and at least twenty of the old crew are history, killed by Collectors on the old Normandy, SR1.

There’s no way everyone aboard the new Normandy, SR2, will come through this war alive. Some are going to die, quite possibly everyone. We’ve seen some tough assignments, but no one alive has ever seen a challenge like this.

I've looked at the reports, and following surrender to the Alliance when we left Cerberus, the Normandy has been properly scrubbed for any Cerberus monitoring or control devices. Everything is guaranteed secure, specifications are in line with Alliance regulations, and the stealth systems have been upgraded. The capacity of the heat sinks has been improved to the point where we can drop out of lightspeed without setting off every sensor in range. Of course, it was always possible before to enter system behind a planet, but this new development affords a tremendous degree of flexibility. Moreover, the weaknesses in the stealth systems that the Collectors exploited have been corrected. Unless we're deliberately trying to get their attention, even Reapers should have a hard time detecting us now. We also have a pair UT-47 Kodiak Shuttles primed for deployment, both equipped with the same stealth tech as the Normandy. And the final delight, all Cerberus logos have been removed: the Normandy once again flies her true Alliance colours.

It’s good to be back.

--> Extraction complete, the Primarch is on board.

Barring Humanity, the Turians have the best military in the Galaxy, and the Reapers are hitting Palavan with half of what they threw at Earth, but the Turians are still fighting a losing battle. They’re holding their own for now, but their world is in flames, and the eventual outcome is a forgone conclusion. The focal point of the fight there has moved from the planet to the moon. The Turian heavy weapon emplacements there are strong enough to deny the Reapers undisputed control of Palavan airspace, and even the Reapers have hesitated to attack the defence batteries directly from orbit, instead fielding vast numbers of infantry across the rocky surface of the moon to take it on foot.

Primarch Fedorian is dead, his shuttle shot down as it tried to leave the moon. The Turian line of succession is designed for situations like this, but the sheer mass of causalities, rumoured and confirmed, complicated things. Palavan Command finally settled upon General Adrian Victus as the new Primarch. An unconventional tactician, popular with his men but not his hitherto superiors, Victus is understandably torn to be taken away from the scene of action where his men so desperately need him.

Victus is a practical man. He’s agreed to join forces with Humanity on one condition: that we recruit the Krogan to assist Palavan. While they lack any kind of meaningful fleet the Krogan are the toughest fighters in the Galaxy, and if the Turians can keep the Reapers on their toes in space, the Krogan can turn the tide on the ground.

So far as I know, the Reapers have thus far completely ignored Tuchanka, likely on account of the Krogan having neither political position nor fleet, so they should be anxious to get in on the fight. The primary challenge in gaining the aid of the Krogan will be not only getting agreement, but getting all of them to work together. The Krogan have fallen back on a splintered framework of antagonistic clans since the Krogan Rebellions. Urdnot Wrex, last I knew, had been attempting to garner enough support to unite the Krogan and end some of the more self-destructive customs. Let us hope his work has been successful.

General Victus will remain aboard the Normandy for now.  At this time it's as safe a place as can be found in the known Galaxy. The man doesn't dally about. He's already called for a war summit with the Asari, Salarians, and Krogan to discuss terms for emergency military cooperation. Unfortunately, despite this brisk and efficient Turian soldier-turned-politician and his prompt action in the face of emergency, the Salarians are dragging their heels, and the Asari have outright refused to attend. Customarily the exemplars of diplomacy and negotiation, the Asari have declared the odds of successfully uniting the disgruntled Krogan with their hereditary enemies to be so slim as to be not even worthwhile. A pity. With Turians on one side and the Krogan on the other, and the snide Salarian Dalatross in the wings, we could use the able talents of Asari persuasion.

Despite all of this chaos, doubt, and peril, I can at least remove one worry from my mind: Garrus is back, alive and well. Like Victus he was on Palavan's moon, and now is back on board the Normandy, multitasking in his official role as "Chief Advisor on Reaper Forces" to the Primarch and away team soldier and chief calibrations officer for the Normandy. It's good to once again have his dry nonchalance. The Normandy just wouldn't be the same without him.

EDI has occupied the Cerberus robot body. It was not a seamless transition. A hidden back-up in the robot's processing unit tried to sabotage the Normandy in the process. EDI assures me that the synthetic form is now completely safe and purged of remaining Cerberus software. She's walking around the Normandy in her new body like a Human woman might in a new dress. Joker is of course beside himself with glee. I can't say I'm especially pleased to see the form that nearly murdered Ashley Williams, the same that tried to steal the Prothean data, sauntering about the ship. Even if only for Joker's sake, I wish EDI hadn't occupied that deceptively feminine body; the poor fellow seems to be growing confused.

Despite the overall danger the crew seem buoyant, confident that the great Commander Shepard will lead them to victory, certain that Humanity will never be defeated. While I maintain an attitude of brisk direction to sustain morale, I am far from easy at mind.

Humanity has yet to meet an enemy it could not best. We barely got our feet wet with the Turians, and the Batarians were little more than a backstreet brawl. This struggle, the Reaper Invasion, will test the strength and resolve of Humanity to its very limits. Live or die, this war will be like no other, brutal and horrifying beyond the scope of mortal imagination. While our fleets and our colonies still remain, we've seen Earth struck with more carnage in the space of three days than throughout the sum total of known history.

And it's only just begun.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

30 Politics

--> The Council refuses to send aid. Their apologies are civil, but adamant; they will not commit their forces to a joint effort.

When all is said and done, I cannot blame them. Setting aside the now nearly non-existent Batarians, Earth does face the worst of the attack, but the Reapers are everywhere. Turians are facing an invasion of their own, even the Asari have met their first Reapers, and the Salarians, well, are typically Salarian. It seems obvious the Reapers have thrown just enough at each of the other races, commensurate to their strengths, to keep them properly occupied while they crush Earth at their leisure. Despite the exhortations of an uncharacteristically lucid Councillor Udina, no immediate military alliance will be forthcoming.

The Turian Councillor has offered a suggestion. In the chaos of the attack on Palavan, the Turian Primarch is unaccounted for, and the Normandy still has the best stealth drive in the Galaxy. If I can extract the Primarch and ensure his safety, it will be a strong card in the game of political manoeuvring. So be it. If this is what needs doing to gain the cooperation of the Turians, I’ll see it done. If I can bypass the Council and appeal directly to the Turian leadership, the other races will be inclined to follow.

While they refuse to promise warships and troops, the Council have not refused to aid in the construction of the Prothean device. If they can give us anything, resources, scientists, we can use it. Confirmation of such assistance is still in the air.

Udina is on fire. After having been so long on adversarial terms with him for being a self-serving politically motivated blockhead, it is a relief to find him animated and engaged doing everything he can. With Humanity’s civilian leadership on Earth and Arcturus all dead, Udina not only represents Humanity’s face to the Galaxy, he holds the sum of authority for our entire species. He’s ordered all available resources devoted to immediate construction of the Prothean device, a draft across the colonies, all civilian ships armed, and is using every ounce of political clout and leverage he has to conjure up support for Humanity amongst the other races.

It's strange being here on the Citadel, only three years since it all began, but it feels longer than that, as though it all occurred in another life. I suppose in my case it was. How very droll.

Here's where we first embarked upon our mission to hunt Saren down, before we even knew what the Reapers were, when the team first assembled. I keep expecting to see Garrus in his old C-Sec uniform sniffing out information in the back alleys, and Tali with her cryptic message stolen from geth soldiers. But they're not here. No telling where they all are now. Garrus is probably stalking through the smoking rubble of some burning city on Palavan hunting Reapers. Or he could be dead. Tali is most likely sitting in the back seat of Quarian politics waiting for everyone to notice that the rest of the Galaxy is under attack. Wrex is likely solidifying power on Tuchanka, chafing at the bit to get out there and kill monsters. Kaidan is dead, so long ago it seems a lifetime away on Virmire, laying down his life for the rest of us so the mission could continue. Now Ashley is in critical condition, a mere inch away from following him. I tell myself it's not my fault, but I don't believe me. Of all the old team, only Liara can I know for certain is alive and well.

--> Ashley has been treated in a Hospital on the Citadel, and pulled through initial surgery. Head trauma was severe, and final results are still uncertain, but the doctors think she’ll live.

I spent months in custody after returning to the Alliance. Ashley and I didn’t see each other at all during that time. I’d not even been told of her promotion. The sudden arrival of the Reapers is the only reason we found ourselves in direct contact, fighting Cerberus together on Mars. Anderson at least has decided that I’m real, but everything related to my working with Cerberus was classified, and I don’t think Ashley even had clearance to read the Alliance reports on my mission against the Collectors. She still doesn’t know for certain that I’m actually me, and before I have a time to make amends, a Cerberus robot nearly kills her. There’s still so much unsaid between us. She can’t die. She’ll make it.

I’m taking the Normandy into Turian space. That Primarch had better be still alive.

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