Liara T'Soni.
Today, the UNSC Spirit of Fire will be handed over to the Humans. Behind us are long negotiations between the Humans, the Citadel, and my agents. Secretly, of course. I am no master of diplomatic games, so I didn't interfere more than was required of me, leaving the negotiations to subordinates and professionals. Ultimately, a good boss is one who knows how to delegate work to subordinates and ensures it gets done. I can handle that.
The Humans are in no hurry to sell the secret of their superweapon, which is logical; they were stalling for time. Instead, they launched an entire campaign to find the Mass Relay where the ship was discovered. Except the ship wasn't at the Relay itself, but at a significant distance. And if not for scouts risking themselves for a decent sum of Credits, we wouldn't have known about it at all. No one would have.
This complicated the Humans' work, as they had to survey not the Relay itself but the space around it, while the Citadel ships were actively unhappy with such a neighborhood. But to maximize the benefit, my agents had to play a game, maneuvering between all sides. Since the Citadel Council, including the Salarians, were eager to resolve the issue from their side. No, thank you, I need a different result.
I had to play "against everyone." In the sense that the Council Races saw the ship as an opportunity to touch Human technology—outdated but functioning—and to gain specialists and hostages for negotiations. But I need them to cooperate, for agreements and treaties to be signed. Even at this level.
Humans and the Citadel can cooperate; Tela Vasir on Rakhana proves this. It turned out quite well when the Humans joined forces against The Covenant with the Citadel and managed to bring down a Cruiser. By the way, not just Humans, but the UNSC. United Nations Space Command.
And the UNSC Spirit of Fire is a second opportunity for cooperation. I knew there would be difficulties. I understand that the crew, having spent a massive amount of time in cryo-sleep and having fought The Covenant, does not trust me.
I know all this. And yet, someone had to take the first step. Unlike others, I saw that Humans could be good, loyal, and responsible. And I remember Saren Arterius, Tela Vasir, and the Salarian Dalatress as examples of sapient beings who were not kind in the slightest. And in this, I was lucky; I found the right sapients. I didn't manage to convince everyone to even try to talk, far from everyone. After all, Humans are scarred by The Covenant and frankly fear xeno-races. But among the crew, there were those ready to listen.
Professor Ellen Anders, a professional who is ready to discuss the culture and sociology of other races around the clock. She would have voluntarily agreed to the "Embrace Eternity" herself, but the ONI observers forbade it. A pity; it would have been interesting to look into her memory. A good woman, we are alike. I will miss her. She is... sweet? Yes. Delightfully sweet in her dedication to her work.
With Andrew Prescott, the Chief Engineer, we spoke about Element Zero. I didn't understand a significant portion of the expressions when I showed him Element Zero and Biotics, but they were definitely curses. However, I am no technician to understand such things. The man was impressed, as he was by the prospects of such a material. And he was glad when I said that Human scientists were studying it.
With Captain Cutter and the senior officers, as well as the warriors, the relationship was complicated. They simply don't trust me. They remain polite, maintain conversation, and thank me for information about The Covenant and events in the galaxy. But it is precisely a cold politeness. And yet, these are the most interesting individuals! Especially the warriors, whom I still don't understand. Who are they, like the Krogan Battlemasters? It is a mystery, and it makes me desire its solution and feel irritated that the mystery does not yield...
And yet, I am sorry that we likely won't meet again. These people, even if they didn't always trust me, wanted to think that not all aliens are evil. They wanted to hope for the best. And I want it to be so.
But now the exchange is complete. Although I didn't manage to get precise intelligence regarding the weapons, in exchange for the ship's coordinates, I managed to obtain a lot of private information on The Covenant, and even some data on the so-called Forerunners, an ancient race, likely from a pre-Prothean era. As a historian, I am thrilled. As the Shadow Broker, I am not very satisfied. I hoped to learn about the weapons from the Humans so that I wouldn't have to crawl into a base full of Collectors and indoctrinated forces. One torpedo from a safe distance and the problem is gone. But reality is cruel, so the attack on the Collectors and the work with their legacy will now take place. Even if it's dangerous, we essentially have no choice, unfortunately.
And then there are these Forerunners. What I managed to learn is frankly little, but it's enough to both admire and fear them. Because we are talking about a race with the potential of the Reapers, if not more. And they were destroyed... by someone. Not the Reapers; the Reapers wouldn't have left so much evidence in the galaxy. Again, questions to which I hope one day to find answers. Perhaps under the guise of an archaeologist, I'll manage to break into one of their sites. Trading that opportunity for something from my knowledge of the Protheans.
The Captain came to the Shuttle personally. I smiled and shook the outstretched hand. No attempts to enter his mind; the guards are right here. I don't want to test their reaction.
"So, your ship will arrive in two hours. We will leave you sooner."
The Captain nodded.
"I admit, I doubted this until the very end. I'm glad I was wrong."
I sighed.
"I can understand, Captain Cutter. It's a pity we aren't parting as allies."
"Why do you do this?" the Captain asked suddenly, "you are doing much more than a 'soulless corporate trade agent' should. Dr. N'Lari."
I laughed, and the man frowned. Well, he didn't understand.
"I am not a corporate agent, Captain. And as for why... There are enough threats in the galaxy that can only be defeated together. And The Covenant is the least of them. I believe we must all cooperate for the sake of victory in the future. If a step needs to be taken for that, I take it. Ultimately, hating is easier than negotiating. I don't know if it will work, but someone has to.
The man listened in silence, then smiled.
"I hope you succeed, Asari. To build a world where there is peace is a good desire. A right one."
Even if unattainable, uh-huh. I understood the second part of the phrase perfectly.
"If a dangerous enough common enemy is found, sapients will unite. The Covenant fits the role of such an enemy."
The man countered:
"Uniting against a common enemy won't be lasting. Only a common idea, unity with strong leaders and shared ideals will be lasting."
I sighed.
"I know, Captain. Just as I know that shared ideals for different races can differ greatly. Asari are quite similar to Humans, but there are other Council Races. And besides similarities, there are differences, even among Asari. They see the world differently. It is naive to think a full-fledged alliance is possible. But if there is an enemy ahead, and victory is only possible by uniting... If there is no peace, we will only be left to die one by one, Captain. You may tell your command that; I don't mind."
Jalim looked out from the Shuttle.
"Let's fly already. Joker, don't sleep!"
Jeff appeared from one of the side passages in the company of a soldier. Limping, walking carefully.
"I was here on business, after all. And for a reason, Doc. Consulted with the locals to see if they have anything for Vrolik Syndrome. Aside from the question: 'how did they take you into the army with a diagnosis like that,' nothing. Had to prove I really was a lieutenant. It's insulting when people don't believe in you," Joker said with exaggerated loudness.
Likely, Jeff was interrogated. To make the locals trust me, I dragged Joker on board, though he wasn't particularly against it himself. It worked; they reacted more softly to a Human than to an Asari. Jeff grumbled, but thanks to him, I managed to learn quite a lot about the rebellion. About the Human separatists, in contrast to Cerberus. As I expected, the Illusive Man's ideas found resonance among the locals. Unfortunately.
Jalim sighed and repeated:
"Get in. We need to get back on board before they fly off without us. Now."
As if the Shadow Throne would fly off without a pilot. But the locals don't need to know that.
"I'm coming," Joker muttered, climbing in, "you could have carried me in your arms or levitated me with Biotics if it's that urgent. I'm fragile; I need to be handled with care. That's it, I'm in, let's start."
The Shuttle undocked, heading toward the Shadow Throne. We flew past the Turian ship; evidently, it, like the bodies of the Turian scouts, will go to the Humans. The UNSC Spirit of Fire came to life, its guns turning, tracking the Shuttle flying past. They are watching, tracking, but not firing. A good sign.
"If they wanted to fire, now is the best moment," Jalim noted.
Joker smirked.
"If they wanted to fire, the best moment was while we were on board. As if we could have fought back. By the way, boss, where are we flying?"
I, watching the mass of the ship with my eyes, said:
"We'll break distance and wait in stealth for the ship to appear. It's interesting to see who it will be."
"Don't we know?" the pilot asked immediately, "you're tracking the Relay, aren't you?"
I nodded.
"That's the thing. No one arrived through the Relay; the Asari and Turian ships are still in the system, watching. But we were told a ship would be here. I want to know what kind of ship it will be and where it will come from. Did they press you hard, Jeff?"
Joker smirked.
"Well, when they weren't trying to accuse me of being a traitor, they didn't press too hard. Interesting people, diverse. And a cat. And when I trashed several of their pilots in the simulator, they even gained some respect, though they admitted that with a diagnosis like mine, I wouldn't have made it into the army without correction. Well, I don't need to be in their army."
I saw the cat. The animal, ginger and short-haired, walked calmly around the ship, and the crew treated it normally. A tradition, as they explained to me, from the times when there could be small rodents on board. An interesting tradition; John had a hamster on his ship and fish that were eternally dying of hunger, which I mentioned. The Humans laughed.
Meanwhile, our Shuttle reached the Shadow Throne; Jeff went to the bridge, and I went to my office. And at that very moment, the battle alarm siren wailed.
"Contact in the system!"
Of course, they arrived early. Who would have doubted it.
"Joker, get us out of here! Jalim, carry him to the cockpit."
"Got it!"
A minute later, the pilot reported:
"Working on it, I'm in position! Two minutes!"
I switched to the external cameras. At a significant distance from both ships, a third appeared. The shape was characteristic of UNSC ships. A much larger square nose, massive turrets on the facets, and the largest one on the roof, the size of the Shadow Throne. Joker whistled.
"Big ship with big guns. They're contacting us, by the way."
Saying this, he turned on the receiver:
"Ship Wanderer, this is the Star Cruiser UNSC Longinus. We order you to drift and receive a boarding team."
They're fast.
"Joker?"
The pilot, who I can see through the cameras is warming up the engines, replied:
"Distract them, give me a minute. Need to slightly change the vector so we don't hit the Spirit of Fire. I'll get us out."
I didn't answer Joker, but connected to the comm channel myself:
"UNSC Longinus, this is Dr. N'Lari. We are a research vessel and pose no threat. According to the agreement, we were supposed to leave the zone before your arrival, but you appeared early. Give us a vector and the agreement will be fulfilled."
It's clear they didn't just appear early by accident. I am frankly stalling them.
"Wanderer, repeat. Shut down engines and receive the team. Otherwise, we will be forced to take measures. Up to and including firing."
Joker waved his hand, showing a countdown. I continued to stall the dispatcher:
"Fine, no need for aggression. But to shut down the Mass Effect Core, some time is required. Stand by."
They didn't believe me.
"Do you take us for idiots, Doctor? We know how long it takes to work with a Core. Shut down engines. Now."
Joker continued the countdown with his fingers. The ship shifted slightly to peek its nose out from behind the Spirit of Fire. A few jolts and movement by inertia. Just in case they start firing. A few seconds later, Joker smirked.
"Bye, losers!" the pilot announced, and the space outside the hull jerked, turning white-blue, "what is it with people, huh? We found their lost ones, helped them. And they... I'm disappointed in Humanity."
At this comment, I laughed.
"And in robots?"
"Robots are cool. Eh, I wonder how EDI is doing..."
I'm curious too. I'm afraid we'll have to take a detour and return by a different route to avoid running into our own patrols. I hope I make it in time for the attack on Omega.
***
Khaela, UNSC Spirit of Fire.
The Possessed found herself in the front row of the queue to be present on this ship. Why? Serina, the ship's AI, will likely be in Rampancy or close to it. Her condition wasn't discussed in front of the xenos. I need to find out, and if she's still intact, perform a correction.
The xeno ship successfully escaped from the UNSC Longinus, but let's be honest, that was expected. I received my proof that Dr. N'Lari and a certain Liara T'Soni are the same Asari, using the same ship. And who has an exact copy of herself among her relatives, yes.
This is clearly no ordinary Asari. But it's not just about her; they wouldn't send Jupiter-class ships just for one Asari. The UNSC Spirit of Fire, given the available data, could contain a mass of data required by ONI. Therefore, for such an occasion, the Vice Admiral sent the UNSC Longinus into action. And five minutes later, its sister ship, the Atlas, appeared. Unfortunately, they couldn't be given an escort, but there are no enemies nearby. Which the hologram stated to the Vice Admiral when the second ship arrived.
"Both ships have arrived at the rendezvous point. A ship has been recorded emitting signals and identified as the Spirit of Fire. The Citadel ship has been driven off. So far, there is no evidence of the Broker's lies."
The Vice Admiral nodded.
"Excellent. Go on board; we need a closer look. Continue data collection, maintain distance."
So my Possessed jumped into a Pelican in the front row. Along with me, officers—mostly our own from ONI—loaded into the same craft. No one complained about the Possessed, who was also dressed in uniform. And they gave up the seat in the cockpit so there wouldn't be problems with the tail. You can turn the co-pilot's seat sideways there.
And when we flew out, she stood up, examining the ship. The pilot also noticed:
"A breach along the port side. Patched up, but the traces are visible, emergency repairs."
I nodded.
"I see it. Not a breach, not exactly. Looks like... hull deformation, yes. In the direction opposite to the bow. Medium resistance, likely a ramming maneuver."
"Did they collide with someone?" the female agent inquired immediately, also examining the long, jagged hole covered in patches, "indeed. It's as if they were hit with giant sandpaper."
To the right, the dark mass of the Atlas is visible, hanging against the background of the Spirit of Fire as an escort. The ships have undergone repairs and are combat-ready. The main gun is turned slightly to the side; crew members are visible in the windows, also stopping and looking at the Spirit of Fire. This old ship's reputation is ambiguous. It flew for a long time, outlived many—and "outlived" them while they were on board. The ship itself is old, and was so even at the start of the war. Now it is a modified, large, but still very old carrier. Which doesn't particularly please those who will be flying on it.
Especially considering the ship wasn't originally a combat vessel; it's a colonial transport. And the equipment on board is suited for delivering civilians and equipment back and forth, not for battle. Especially not for battle with The Covenant. But they managed it; they survived. Interesting.
"The ship was in battle," the pilot concluded, looking at the scorched armor and patched holes in the hull.
The Possessed nodded.
"Well yes, at Harvest, then Arcadia. The ship helped with the evacuation. I thought it would be worse. But they did quite well."
"Thank you, officer," came over the comms. The pilot shrank slightly, as she was in contact with their MCC, and they heard everything.
I sighed demonstratively.
"We're all lucky we weren't discussing anything classified."
"Yes, ma'am," the woman nodded immediately, "one minute to docking."
No need to over-press.
"It's fine, don't worry about it. Just making an observation; there's no violation in your actions."
The craft was pulled into a dock in the ship's belly. Much of the Spirit of Fire's equipment is held on hardpoints; it's a carrier ship, literally. Well, the Pelican flew in from below, and the airlock closed beneath it, becoming the floor on which the machine landed. We are already being met in the hangar. Not by the Captain personally—that would be against protocol—but by officers. Identification: Major Blake, Lieutenant Green.
The locals waited for us to hop out of the Pelican onto the metal of the airlock, then approached. While the official protocol greeting takes place, I am more interested in inspecting the hangar, or more precisely, the shuttle standing in the corner. A Turian one.
Noticing my gaze, the Major from the Atlas looked in the same direction.
"A ship of the Council Races?" which also interested the ONI colleagues, who looked where we were looking.
Lieutenant Green, after a nod from his superior, replied:
"Yes, sir. Unlike the Asari, they offered resistance."
The Possessed bared her triangular teeth. It's clear what was meant and what happened to those who resisted.
"Excellent, you have a trophy, officer, congratulations. But I am interested in something else. Serina, is she still functioning?"
The Lieutenant asked in surprise:
"Ma'am?"
The Possessed turned to the man.
"Your ship's AI. Is she still functioning?"
The Major came to his subordinate's aid.
"No, officer. Serina deleted herself in 2537, after an outbreak of infection."
We're too late. I wasn't acquainted with Serina, of course. But I still hoped we could get her out. Even in a state of Rampancy, we could have helped her. A partial rewrite, and your operational life is limited only by storage drives. We're too late! Too late! The leather glove tore with a crunch as the Possessed extended her claws. I have a right to some irritation!
"It's impossible to save everyone, Tomoko," the voice of the officer from the Atlas came from behind the Possessed.
I grimaced demonstratively.
"I know. But that doesn't mean I have to like it, Major."
Major Blake intervened.
"What do you mean 'help'? Serina had reached her limit. She held on for a long time as it was."
I raised a hand, indicating I would explain myself.
"You've slept through a lot, Major. Energy weapons on our ships, like on the Atlas-class, new defense systems, victories and defeats. We've learned to restore AIs. A partial rewrite, and she could have worked for years, if not decades. The process can be repeated. But we're too late!"
The silence in the hangar stretched for a while. The issue needs to be resolved. I turned to Blake.
"My apologies, Major. I just find this whole situation unpleasant. Lieutenant Tomoko, ONI. You mentioned an infection. Could you tell me more?" and smiling as friendly as possible, added, "please."
The man pointed toward the exit.
"I believe Major O'Neil, the head of our medical service, can tell you more. You will be escorted."
A Marine was assigned as my escort; he looked at the armor of my colleagues and whispered, inquiring:
"Did they issue the infantry new armor?"
The Marine from the Atlas looked at me, at my ears; I only smiled, lightly, without showing "the jaw."
"I hear absolutely nothing and am going about my business. To the medical bay."
Our Marine also whispered back to his colleague:
"Yeah. You really did sleep through a lot. We found friendly xenos, a race of robots that are friends with ONI. They make us armor, among other things. Good stuff; not like the Spartans', of course, but tougher than what we had. And with a closed breathing system."
The soldier whistled, glancing at the Possessed, while I pretend that the scuffed steel corridors interest me more than their conversation. And it's true; I see traces of battle. And not just that; there is dried material in the seams. How interesting.
"Seriously?" the local asked, "Renegades from The Covenant or like these Asari?"
"The second one. A huge mother-loving reptile, weighs as much as five men."
Let them talk. I expect that Humans, hungry for information and deprived of news, will grab onto everything they can. I myself am noting traces of battle, dried blood that wasn't always cleaned up. And hm... There's clearly something in the seam.
"Ma'am?"
I raised a hand, examining a yellowish trace. It got into the seam, likely why it wasn't cleaned out. I extended a claw, trying to pick at this strange... No, not strange. Dead, but such a familiar material.
"What did you do with the bodies?" turning around, I looked at the surprised soldiers and repeated, "The Parasite, what did you do with the infected?"
"Cremated them," a new voice replied, "Major O'Neil. I was concerned that you couldn't seem to make it to the medical bay, Lieutenant. Lieutenant Tomoko, right?"
I bowed slightly.
"That is correct, O'Neil-san. It's good that you burned them. But the ship will have to be re-sterilized. The form remains in the seams. I'm not sure if it's alive. More likely... not alive. But it's better not to risk it."
The man nodded.
"We'll handle it. Is this infection really spreading through the galaxy? First that asari scientist was interested, now intelligence."
Pleasantly, the man didn't care about the avatar's appearance at all. Even the marines had paid more attention than the medic. A grim, hardened man. Cleaning a claw with the offered napkin, I replied:
"No, thank the Hand, no. It's just that some archaeologists crawl into every hole they find and then unseal refrigerators that are better left closed. Come, we have much to discuss. A great deal."
And from the UNSC Longinus, they would begin unloading the ship's reactor. They also needed to install a drive capable of at least twenty light-years. Before taking the ship, it would have to be crudely modified. Likely, the crew would be taken off, and the ship would reach its destination on its own. Officers like these, who had survived several battles and had combat experience against the Covenant, were valuable specialists. It wasn't for nothing they brought two Jupiter-class ships for them.
***
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