Plan for the Galaxy Chapter 57

Plan for the Galaxy

A/N

Hi everyone! Here is the next chapter of PFTG. Not much to say but I have been working hard to hit the deadline and have all three planned updates for this month out. Also, the poll is up for next month, in case you didn’t see it. I will admit, I have been running on minimal sleep so I might have missed something in the editing process. If you see a mistake, let me know and I can edit it.

Thanks everyone for your support. I appreciate all of you for your kindness and generosity. Anyway, to the story!

…

CHAPTER 57 – Aftermath: The End of Game 1

(Jane POV)

There was something about the smell of hospitals that always made Jane feel that if she spent too long in one that she was going to catch something. There was always a scent under the aroma provided by antiseptic cleaning solutions had a tinge of putrefying flesh to her senses.

Still, she had always been to see her wounded comrades when they were sent to hospital and she wasn’t going to stop the practice now. Not even if the comrade had left her squad.

The private medical suite that Brock Nielson was situated in was surprisingly roomy and decorated enough to know that it was meant for VIPs. This was a place where the rich and powerful would come to recover in privacy, where the riffraff and the paparazzi wouldn’t be able to access them for a scoop.

As a Spectre, Jane was given access to these rooms without a fuss from the hospital staff, or even CSEC. That didn’t mean that there weren’t people that would prevent her being there if they didn’t want her to be there.

Brock’s people were all incredibly loyal to the man, judging by how they obviously worried for him. It was understandable. From what she had heard, both from Brock himself and the rumours that naturally follow mysterious people, many of the people that worked for him were former slaves that Brock’s people had rescued, who then decided to stay on.

She had seen it herself during the Blitz. People who were rescued had a tendency to become attached to their rescuers. Still, she had heard that they were all given extensive rehabilitation therapy before they could make that decision for themselves, so it wasn’t like he was taking advantage of them. They were taken care of, then joined once they were cleared mentally as well as physically. Most of them saw that he was doing good work and wanted to get in on it. And somehow, Brock gave them a sense of accomplishment, pride and satisfaction that they were not getting from anyone else.

She could only wish that the Alliance would inspire such loyalty from its people.

As it was, it had taken nearly ten minutes of quiet arguments with the soldiers guarding his floor to talk her way into seeing Brock. Even then, she had only succeeded when Torrin had appeared and said that she could see the Australian.

The young turian had led the way into the suite and not left.

“You can say what you need to,” he had said, his tone flat as he stood in an empty spot near the door. “But he is scheduled for surgery soon and needs to be taken for that.”

She just nodded, not put off by his less-than-friendly tone, but she couldn’t deny that the clear lack of trust was hurtful after all they had been through. She may have not trusted Brock enough in an emotional moment, but he hadn’t trusted her enough to let her know some things either.

She ignored the turian and pulled a chair over to sit next to Brock, who was lying on his bed. The man had an oxygen mask over his face and tubes feeding him medications and fluids, but other than his missing leg he appeared to have nothing wrong with him. No bruises or anything on his exposed skin.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Hey Brock,” she said to the unconscious man. “This last day has been busy. I haven’t really had a chance to sleep despite it all. Everyone is working around the clock, trying to either shore up defences, clear up after the attack or just wander around looking like they were important or trying to look like they were busy doing something.”

Brock didn’t reply, of course. If it wasn’t for the extremely faint rising and falling of his chest or the slow and steady beep of the heart monitor, she might have thought he was dead.

“I guess that I should tell you the highlights,” she continued, letting a lopsided smile cross her face. “Because of the Alliance fleets making it in first through the Relays and saving the Council when it looked like they were going to be destroyed by the geth, not to mention my success in stopping Saren on the Spire, the Alliance were granted a provisional seat on the Council. That gives us the same rights as the asari and turians. Udina was almost wetting himself with excitement.

“The only problem was that nobody could decide on who to appoint as the councillor. Udina put his name in, of course, but I was asked for my opinion. I said that I thought David Anderson should be put in. Udina is a hack, as you know, and doesn’t give a great example of humanity’s best. So, for now, Captain Anderson is the acting councillor for the Alliance until Parliament can choose a proper replacement.”

The soft beeping of medical equipment was all the response she got to her news so far.

“I’ve been sent to look for more information regarding the reapers,” she went on. “I’m not sure on where to start looking yet. I have a few leads already, but I won’t know for sure until I go there. Saren, in his final moments, told me that the reapers will be coming eventually. So, we are going to need you to get up and healthy before they arrive, all right? After you and your people’s defence of the Citadel, people are going to be relying on you to make them feel safe.”

She paused as she thought of what to say next. Rather, she knew what to say, but putting it into words in a way that weren’t accusatory were a little harder.

“I finally went to see that lawyer you mentioned in your message,” she said, inwardly flinching at her own, slightly harsh, tone. “You know, the one that you sent me during that nonsense with Balak. He told me that you had spoken to him a few days ago and that you gave him some specific directions. That he was only to release any information that he was holding for you two weeks after a confirmed death. Otherwise, he was to ignore all requests to access any information that he was holding on your behalf. Not sure what that was about, but I guess after our… disagreement before I can understand that you are being more careful.”

She sighed, letting go of some of the resentment she felt at having been denied like she had been. That lawyer had been pretty rude, though she got the feeling he was like that with everyone, not just her.

“The Council is running around trying to sort out any information they can get about Sovereign and the geth and everything that happened there. They don’t have the ship on profile or anything. They have no idea of any race that had the power to one-shot a dreadnought as powerful as Sovereign, but it has them terrified. I know that the STG xenobiologists are doing everything they can to translate the message that they broadcast before they left the system.”

Now Jane let the tiniest amount of her amusement, a miniature smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she leaned forward. She could feel Torrin’s eyes burning into the back of her skull as she did.

“I don’t have any proof,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, “but I know that you had something to do with it. I don’t know how, but I know that it was you. But that’s fine. Because of you, you managed to free up the Alliance fleets and that meant that they could save the Council without an issue and focus on defeating the geth fleet. That earned us our Council seat. I don’t have a clue if that was the plan but I am grateful that the Alliance isn’t just being left behind. And I am happy to know that we have a weapon to fight against the reapers, when they come.”

She leaned back in her chair, just as a nurse opened the door, followed by an orderly. Both of them were escorted by another pair of Brock’s guards.

“I’m sorry to cut you short,” the asari nurse said, sounding not very apologetic, “but Mr Nielson needs to head off for his next surgery. I’ll have to ask you to leave, Spectre Shepard.”

Jane nodded and stood up. She looked back down at the human lying unconscious on the hospital bed. “I need to head off too,” she said to the comatose Brock. “I have to take the Normandy to go and look for more evidence about the reapers. I’ll come back whenever I am on the Citadel.” She reached over and patted brock on the shoulder. “See you soon, Brock.”

With that done, she turned and headed back out the door, Torrin following her. As she made it to the elevator that would take her to the ground floor and back to the public areas of the hospital, she stopped and turned to the young turian.

“Torrin,” she said, feeling a little timid. “Could you do me a favour and tell Brock that I am sorry? When he wakes up? He did a lot to help me on my mission and I am truly very grateful for his help. I just want you to tell him ‘Thank you’ for helping me be a better Spectre.”

The turian looked at her with a piercing gaze for a long moment, as if trying to read her mind and gauge her sincerity. Finally, he nodded.

She smiled gratefully. “Thank you,” she said, the elevator door opening up in front of them. “And also, thank you for the help you gave me on my mission. You certainly made things easier, and you were able to show Liara and Wrex a few new tactics with your biotics.”

His expression softened slightly as she stepped into the elevator. He gave her a nod and left, letting her watch him walk away as the door closed. She sighed and let some of the tension fade away. The last week had been a massive yoyoing of emotions and events. Finding Saren’s base, getting the location of Ilos, being betrayed by the Council and Udina, having to get free, finding a world that hasn’t been seen in thousands of years, fighting Saren and the geth again… a lot had happened in a short amount of time.

Despite all of that, she couldn’t deny, it; completing the mission had been… extremely satisfying. She had cemented her place in the echelons of the Citadel. She had shown the galaxy that she could match up with the best of the best. That she could take a ragtag team and take down one of the best and most well-connect criminals in the galaxy.

If this is what Spectre missions were all going to be like, she was all in.

The elevator pinged, opening on her floor. She steeled herself, ready to head back to the Normandy. Time to get these reapers Saren had been working for.

…

(Tevos POV)

The atmosphere, even with the momentous occasion of having a new race placed on the Council, certainly wasn’t one of celebration. Oh, sure, David Anderson was certainly more amiable than Donnel Udina would have been. In fact, Tevos was absolutely certain that the Alliance ambassador would have preened for weeks on end if he was the one sitting in the Council position. As it was, the sour face on the human politician brought Tevos no small amount of amusement.

Still, in the wake of the invasion by Saren and his geth, many civilians were killed as a result. Not only that, the Citadel Defence Fleet took heavy losses from the geth fleet before the Relays were opened and the Alliance were able to send through reinforcements. The decision to save the Council and Destiny Ascension were key considerations in the Alliance’s inclusion on the Council. But there were thousands of casualties, both in space as well as on the space station, who would not live to see tomorrow.

“We have an updated count from the Kithoi Ward,” Sparatus said, his tone subdued out of respect. “Total casualties so far are nearing eight thousand. Add that to the total casualties for the Citadel as a whole and we are nearing fifty thousand dead and wounded, plus another twelve thousand from the Defence Fleet.”

“Total Fleet vessel casualties as they stand,” Valern spoke up, not looking away from his terminal, “are: two dreadnoughts completely destroyed and two more damaged enough to warrant decommission; thirteen cruisers of various tonnage; ninety-seven frigates; and one hundred and twenty fighter craft. That is independent of the Alliance losses.”

“The Alliance Second Fleet was hit pretty badly,” David Anderson spoke up. “Thankfully, Admiral Hackett’s dreadnought and heavy cruisers were able to come out of the battle with relatively minor damage. However, we took heavy losses when we relieved the Destiny Ascension. Forty percent of the fleet’s total numbers were lost in the battle. Now that we have a seat on the Council and our fleet restrictions have changed to match that, we should be able to be back at full strength in the next year. We should also have another dreadnought completed by then to assist in defending Citadel space. Two more dreadnoughts have been approved by the Appropriations Committee.”

“Excellent news,” Sparatus replied, for once not sounding annoyed at the humans at all. Having been saved by the Alliance, and having the Alliance save the Citadel as a whole, had done wonders in removing much of the vitriol that Sparatus had aimed at the humans. That and as a turian, Sparatus was naturally inclined to be more militarily focussed than either Tevos or Valern so news of the Alliance fleets being able to assist in wider patrolling duties was going to be welcome to him. “Once done, I will be in touch to coordinate efforts with the Patrol Fleet.”

David nodded in response, but didn’t verbally reply.

“In the wake of the Citadel attack, relief efforts and emergency rations are being distributed by the Citadel staff at plenty of sites,” Tevos spoke up, proud of how quickly the relief had been able to be coordinated. “We are having to requisition more foodstuffs though, with much of the reserve having been targeted in the attack. Asari worlds are sending shipments of foods to the Citadel to help cope with the stress.”

“I will contact the Alliance,” David spoke up again. “See if we can arrange rapid transportation of foods from Eden Prime and Terra Nova. Those worlds are still heavily in the agricultural stage of development.”

Tevos nodded, feeling happy that the Alliance were stepping up in more ways than just militarily. It was a relief to know that there was more to them than just being stubborn and aggressive in combat.

“The Relay monument has been shut down,” Valern spoke up tersely. “Technicians and the STG scientists are investigating to make sure that the geth don’t turn it back on and send another fleet in or any other reinforcements. An STG team has also been dispatched to the Conduit on Ilos to make sure that it isn’t accessed again.”

“I have also already received requests from prothean archaeology teams to visit Ilos and begin their work there. I have also had requests from the hanar ambassador to declare the planet a religious monument and declare it off limits to everyone.”

“What’s the protocol in this situation?” David asked. Understandable, seeing as humanity had not been involved in dealing with an unclaimed planet this way.

“Normally what we are doing now,” Tevos replied. “Have teams to inspect safety, others to inspect the technology to see if there is any new prothean technology that will be able to improve our collective knowledge basis, and if it has been known to be a risk to the Citadel or its client races, to ensure that it can’t continue to be so.”

“As for the hanar,” Valern took over the explanation, “they make the same application for every prothean world, including those already settled. They even made an application for Eden Prime after the Alliance joined the Citadel. We receive it, consider if it has anything that would be worth restricting its access and settlement, then we send a polite rejection to their ambassador.”

“You might need to hold the STG and archaeology teams,” Sparatus spoke up, frowning at his own terminal.

Tevos blinked and looked over at her turian counterpart, a feeling of dread coming over her. “What’s wrong?” she asked in concern. “Are there more threats we need to worry about? Have the geth sent another fleet?”

Thankfully, Sparatus shook his head. “No,” he denied. “Shieldstar Corporation had already sent a claim on the planet as a private entity.”

Tevos blinked in surprise at that. “How could they make that claim?” she asked. “Brock Nielson was part of Spectre Shepard’s team and followed her request to look for the planet. She is an agent of the Citadel, therefore that discovery comes under the Citadel’s authority. No private corporation can make a claim under those auspices.”

Sparatus shook his head again. “Not so,” he replied, tapping at his screen. Tevos’ terminal lit up as the turian sent her the proper file. “It looks like Shieldstar Corporation is claiming that they sent an independent survey team three hours prior to the order made by the Spectre and so was not done under Citadel authority.”

She looked up the document and blinked again as she found what he was referring to. Apparently, Shieldstar had been looking for Ilos for months. Before the mission to stop Saren had even started. A private corporation that was not beholden to any government was entitled to keep whatever resources that they found, including garden worlds. There were different provisions that came up when it came to prothean ruins and technology, but in practice, the Citadel couldn’t really force a private company to hand over any technology that they found and hid away before a Citadel team could come and verify the claims.

Normally, the Council could force the issue and send someone anyway. However, there was a lot of goodwill that Shieldstar had generated because of their actions in keeping the Citadel and its citizens safe during the invasion. They had saved many lives by confining the geth before they could spread too far and providing both security in the form of its own forces, and safety through the evacuation zones that they had managed to set up before anyone else could respond.

“Let’s recall the archaeology team but have the STG team continue,” Tevos suggested. “Ensure that it is impressed upon them that they are to do their best to not be seen.”

Sparatus and Valern both nodded, with the salarian making a note on his terminal. David frowned thoughtfully for a moment, before he also nodded slowly. “I can see the wisdom in that,” he said carefully. “But is it wise to potentially step on a claim like that?”

“The STG team will be good enough at making sure they are not seen by standard detection,” Valern said. “If they are found, they will leave behind some surveillance equipment and leave without conflict. It is standard practice when it comes to prothean technology that it is best if not left in the hands of private individuals. It is why, for the good of all, the Councils of the past have put into the Accords to make sure that all governments are to share all prothean technology they find.”

Long practice on the topic meant that there wasn’t even a flickering in her emotions at that statement. After all, the Temple of Athane was not open to the general public most of the time and the beacon hidden there hadn’t been found by anyone for thousands of years. It was extremely unlikely that it was going to happen anytime soon.

“Coming back to Shieldstar,” Sparatus spoke up, “while it was extremely commendable for them to have done so much in defending the people of the Citadel, does no one else find it suspicious that they had managed to respond to the invasion so quickly?”

“Those questions have been answered by Shieldstar’s Executive Director of Security, a Mr Beau Clarke, and the Acting President, Persei Avanis,” David replied, with Valern nodding. “Due to the nature of the attack on the orphanage that is sponsored by Shieldstar, which also houses President Brock Nielson’s daughter, they requested a drastic increase in security several weeks ago.”

“I approved those applications myself,” Valern spoke up. “Additionally, according to Mr Clarke, due to the nature of most of their activities in the Terminus, it is standard practice for them to have extensive emergency management plans in any of their dwellings, which are routinely drilled through training exercises. As for the gunships, they claim that the gunships were being used as part of sales pitches to potential buyers, but I think it more likely that they were being kept as extra security in case more kidnappers and slavers managed to succeed in raiding Mr Nielson’s daughter and were on hand to prevent escape via aircar. It could be either or both.”

“Plus,” Tevos added, “Mr Nielson was on the Normandy with Spectre Shepard until just before they departed for Ilos. It is possible that he had suspected that there would be an attack on the Citadel and he had his people put on alert as a precaution.”

Sparatus gave a whistling grunt. “If only CSEC was as efficient as Shieldstar had been, it would have been better for our image,” he grumbled. “Still, despite my misgivings of the human in charge, I can’t complain about their effectiveness. Executor Pallin estimates that losses would have been drastically higher if Shieldstar had not been involved.”

Tevos found herself nodding along with the other two in agreement. Brock’s people had saved a lot of lives. It was extremely unfortunate that the human had once again managed to be injured when the parts of the so-called ‘reaper’ collided with the Citadel Tower. He managed to live, though had done so at the expense of a leg.

She hoped that it wouldn’t stop the man from being himself. His fascinating, infuriating self.

“Moving on,” Sparatus said. “Rebuilding and aid distribution proceeds as expected, so I believe that it is best for us to focus on the last main issue.”

The turian tapped at his screen, but even before anything came up on the holodisplay, Tevos knew exactly what the turian was referring to.

A fuzzy, tiny image lit up on the display. It was grainy and clearly taken from a great distance. It looked nothing like any ship that Tevos had seen. Despite her unfamiliarity with the vessel, she knew what it was. It was the vessel that had fired… whatever it was that destroyed the alien dreadnought.

“We have gone back through all known and obscure records that we could find,” Sparatus continued. “There is nothing that we have been able to see that matches the either the physical description or the engine profile from our records. What little we have of the protheans doesn’t match it either. Not to mention the transmission that it sent before it vanished into the nebula.”

“Verbal tones almost match asari, but not quite,” Valern supplied. “The language is unknown by any of our associated races, nor does it appear on the list of one of the known races that have not yet progressed to space travel.”

It wasn’t a long list, but neither was it empty. Tevos knew of at least five races that were not space worthy, therefore not to be approached by the Citadel. The two that Brock Nielson had identified those years ago, and the yagh were only three of them.

“So far, the STG analysts have given the following conclusions,” Valern continued. “First, it is a new race with powerful weaponry capable of destroying any known dreadnought in a single shot. Secondly, it was a known government testing a new weapon and starship. Third, it was a private company testing a new weapon and starship.”

“Did they say which of those was the most likely?” David asked.

Valern nodded in the human’s direction. “Yes,” he confirmed. “The most likely is that it was done by a known private corporation, but the analysis admits to major flaws in that reasoning. The first issue being: how it the corporation know that the geth and the reaper were going to be here? Also concerning was why didn’t they stick around after they destroyed the reapers vessel? There are too many factors that make that conclusion unreliable. As such, they also cannot discount the possibility that the vessel is from a new race. One that is powerful enough to destroy our dreadnoughts in a single shot.”

That left an uncomfortable silence settle over the room. Tevos didn’t like it. The asari had maintained a technological advantage for millennia. The turians held the military advantage and had done for centuries. For an unknown to have both and to have them show up and take out the reaper in such a way that it didn’t damage the Citadel, and the round that it had fired had disappeared or dissolved somehow so it couldn’t be studied, made all of the Council races present very nervous.

“I have shared this information with my primarch,” Sparatus spoke up again after a few long moments. “He has suggested that we put the vote out to increase research and development into stronger and more powerful dreadnoughts that are currently denied under the Farixen Agreement.”

Tevos looked at him for a long moment. “Those treaties were put in place for a reason,” she said evenly.

Sparatus nodded. “I know,” he conceded. “So does the Primarch. But in the space of a day, the Citadel was invaded by a fleet of geth that would have overwhelmed even our most powerful dreadnought in the Destiny Ascension. A previously never before seen dreadnought ran straight through a medium cruiser vessel without even flinching; then another completely unknown ship destroyed that dreadnought with a single shot that our sensors read as a ship going to lightspeed. We don’t know what is going on exactly and we are not prepared for it. We need more strength than we currently have.”

Silence fell over the Council Chambers again as his argument sunk in.

“I realise that I am new to this position, as is all of humanity,” David said slowly, sounding cautious, “but I do believe that Councillor Sparatus is right. Between the damage of the Alliance Fleets and the Citadel Defence Fleet by the mostly geth Fleet, we find ourselves on the backfoot here. We need to look at something that would give us the edge in a fight so that we don’t end up victims of our own hubris.”

“Perhaps larger ships are not the answer,” Valern countered. “Different weapons or defences might be more appropriate.”

“As would be establishing contact with whoever captained that vessel,” Teos interrupted. She didn’t really want to be the asari councillor that approved a massive increase in military development. It wasn’t the asari way.

“Contact couldn’t happen if we can’t find them,” Sparatus rebutted. “Not only that, we can’t negotiate from the weaker position. We know nothing about this new party. Are they an alien vessel? If so, is it one race or is it a collection of species like we have? How many ships do they have? What is their level of technology? There are a lot of answers here that we need but we don’t have. And my Primarch is not the sort of man that will happily sit back and let someone else dictate a negotiation when there was something that we could do about it.”

Tevos bit her lip to prevent her from responding too quickly. “I will need to present this to the Council of Matriarchs,” she winced. “This is not something I can vote on here.”

“I suspect we will all need to bring it to our respective governments,” David said reasonably. “I will contact my President once this meeting is over. As long as there is no issue with me passing over all the files to him and his advisers, the Parliament will need to make the decision along with the requisitions committee.”

That seemed a rather inefficient system to Tevos, though who was she to judge. The Council of Matriarchs were the masters of prolonged discussions before making a decision. For all of their extra levels of bureaucracy, the Alliance still managed to take action a lot faster than most other races.

“I think that is a good stopping point for the moment,” Valern said into the silence. “We each have a lot of work to do. Tevos, I believe that you are still planning to present the Citadel Service Award to Shieldstar once Mr Nielson recovers sufficiently?”

Tevos nodded. It was a small price to pay for the help that Brock and his people had given them during the invasion.

“Very well,” Valern said. “Spectre Shepard has already reported in that she is moving the Normandy to investigate the Amada System next. Hopefully she will have something new for us.”

Tevos noticed that David looked more alert at Spectre Shepard’s mention. Only natural; he had been her mentor, after all.

“We shall set the next meeting for two days,” Valern said. “Until then.”

With that, the meeting was dismissed and Tevos wasted no time heading off to get more news about Brock Nielson. The last she had been told, he was in a cloning tank having a new leg grown. It was a disturbing process but one he was thankfully unconscious for.

She just wanted to make sure he was comfortable. After all, he had helped save the Citadel, and the Council should remember its heroes.

No other reason.

…

(Brock POV)

The world was water. Sounds were muffled by the liquid around me. Light faded in and out and the sounds changed. Time was difficult. Not the light and dark of the day-night cycle, but a continuing grey. Blurs passed my visions before the darkness returned and the muffled noises died down, only to start again when the light returned.

Something clamped to my face, but my arms wouldn’t move so I couldn’t tell what or take it off.

“…aking again…”

“...uccessful…”

“…bondi…”

The noises were gradually becoming words but the words had no meaning. They sounded far away and like they were spoken through a tunnel. All that I was left with was a fuzziness that was like being surrounded by cotton wool and warmth that made me want to fall asleep. So I did.

Consciousness came slowly, with the fuzziness of waking up under heavy medications being the first thing that I noticed. I groggily looked around, my head lolling without full control as I stared around the room. The familiar soft beeping of a heart monitor was as comforting as it was annoying. I took a slow deep breath and closed my eyes trying to push through the drowsiness to a more alert stage.

The fuzziness did recede slightly but that might have just been me waking up more naturally. I opened my eyes and blinked up at the white ceiling. There was no one else in my room so I thought like I should let someone know I was awake. I clumsily reached a hand out, looking for a call button. I found a likely culprit on the side of the bed and pressed it. A chime sounded in the distance, letting me know that I was right.

It felt like less than ten seconds before a small hoard of people came rushing into my room.

“Brock!” Torrin, Persei, and Aleria cried out when they saw me. Klara came running around the side of my bed and grabbed my hand, giving me a watery smile.

“Hi everyone,” I mumbled, feeling my lips curl in a dopey smile. “I bet you’re wondering why I called this meeting.”

The snort of amusement was gratifying from Aleria. Torrin shook his head and Persei pursed her lips as she narrowed her eyes at me.

“I thought that you were going to stop putting yourself in dangerous situations,” Persei said archly. “This hardly seems like you are keeping your word.”

“When did I promise that?” I replied. “I only promised that I would try to minimise it where I could. I didn’t really want a piece of a reaper falling on me.”

The collective flinch told me, even in my drugged state, that I wasn’t going to like what had happened.

I blinked twice, my mind clearing up even more. “Alright,” I said, narrowing my eyes at them group, “the silence is already…” I looked down at Klara, staring at me with innocent eyes. “… annoying me,” I amended what I was going to say. “What happened?”

“Well,” Aleria said, sounding very hesitant. “The reaper was falling right at the Tower. And the pieces were moving fast enough that they were going to take out plenty of the structure…”

“Your leg got crushed,” Torrin interrupted. “You lost it. We had to clone you a new one.”

“Torrin!” Persei and Aleria both cried out objections as I let the news float over me.

I ignored their bickering as I processed that. I had lost my leg. The whole leg. Gone. Now I had a new one. A copy of my original leg. A fake, or at least a 3d printed copy, made of flesh from a cloning machine. I looked down at the end of the bed, not daring to move my feet.

It sent a small shiver down my spine.

“How…” I started, not able to continue for a second. “How long was I out?”

“It’s been ten days,” Liserias said, marching briskly into the room. It was heartwarming to see my old medic all businesslike. “We knew that you were going to live the same day that you were injured. The rest of the time, we kept you under while we fixed the nerve endings on your damaged limb, grew you a new leg in that cloning machine you had us pick up on Virmire, attached the leg, made sure that the nerves, muscles, bones, and everything else attached. Another day to make sure that blood was flowing properly. Then a few days kept in the cloning machine making sure that there was no rejection while the bonds were strengthened to make it feel like it wasn’t going to fall off at first opportunity.”

I took another long moment to process that as Liserias lifted up my blanket and started poking around my new foot. “Can you feel that?” she asked, as a jolt of pain arced up my leg.

I flinched. “Ouch,” I grumbled. “Yes!”

“Good,” she replied, ignoring my annoyance with the unphased manner of an experienced clinician. “Move your toes for me.”

It took a second but I tried wiggling my toes. It didn’t feel like they were moving much but I did feel it.

“Good,” she said. “Plenty of movement there. Let’s try a few move things.”

The tests ran for another five minutes before Liserias declared herself happy with the results.

“All told,” she said, making a note on her omnitool, “it should be a month before the bonds are nearly as strong as a normal leg. You will need to keep off it completely for the next two weeks, so you are going to make yourself comfortable in this bed because you are not leaving, and I am not removing your catheter.”

Torring and I exchanged an uncomfortable look at that. I carefully ignored Aleria’s amused face.

“After two weeks, you will be kept on minimal movement and light exercises as we begin the rehab to encourage the new muscles and nerves to work with your old ones. All things going well, it will only be two weeks of that and you will be free, though I will be keeping you close by for observations for another month before I will let you go around doing whatever you want.”

Another two weeks stuck in bed? Two more after that living in the hospital? Again? Well, I guess I was filling up with cloned parts fast enough to audition for my own remake of Frankenstein at this rate. The last thing I wanted to do was be moving and have my leg fall off. I would have to suffer it, but that didn’t’ mean I couldn’t do some work.

“Nothing for it,” I replied, sounding a little unhappy even to my own ears. “I had my leg replaced. No need to make it tougher on myself.” I finished with a yawn. “By the way, what else happened while I was out?”

“I have been busy representing the company to the Council,” Persei spoke up. “I have been informed that we are being recognised for our public service and the measures we took to keep the public safe. I was asked a few questions about why we had gunships on the Citadel, but I was able to explain that away, mostly. I told them we had a few meetings with buyers and had brought a bunch along. Not to mention that we had a large number in transit to other places after they were put here from Eden Prime.”

“I guess that invasion was the perfect way for the wider public and associated companies to see what our gunships can do,” I said with a grin. “What has been the response?”

“The Council and CSEC stopped asking questions, but I think Executor Pallin is still suspicious,” Persei said. “I have been contacted by no fewer than sixteen representatives from both governments and private companies who are interested in putting orders in.”

“Send me the list later and I will check them out,” I said. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually,” Beau said, striding into the room wearing a suit. He marched over to me and shook my hand. “Good to see you still among the living, Brock.”

“Good to still be here,” I grinned back at him. “How did our people go?”

“We had a few casualties, but no deaths,” Beau reported easily. “Your injury was the worst of the lot. Everyone else has already been discharged from hospital. You’re the last one left.”

I grinned then grunted as I shifted to be more comfortable. “I do try to be an overachiever.”

Beau smirked. “Trust me, we all know.” His smile dropped. “I just got the word though. Shepard is dead.”

I blinked. “When and how?”

“The Normandy was destroyed by an unknown vessel,” Beau said grimly. “It was hunting down evidence of the reapers when they were hit without warning. Much of the crew were able to evacuate, but Shepard was trapped and got sent into space. The pilot reported seeing her suit leaking air from his escape pod as he left her behind.”

I exhaled slowly and thought about what that meant. Jane was dead, meaning that if the events of the games took place, then we had two years before Cerberus brought her back. I could do a lot in two years.

It was sad that Jane was dead, at least for now. I guess that I wasn’t all that worried though because I was assuming that Cerberus was going to bring her back.

I frowned at that thought. I had learned by now that it was best to never assume that what I knew was the truth. It looked like I was going to need to check a few things.

“What happened to Benezia?” I asked.

“We took custody of her for the meantime,” Beau said. “We are keeping her sedated on the Balrog, like you organised with Shepard. For now, I guess she is staying there until we know what to do with her or the Council comes calling.”

I nodded. It was a good thing, or the matriarch would have died on the Normandy. If that had happened, then it would have felt like the effort I put into saving her would have been for nothing. I fought off another yawn as I considered my next move.

“Write up a public statement sending our condolences to the Alliance and anyone else we need to send them to,” I said to Persei. “Don’t bother sending an escort, but have Ely and Hectar try patch in on the rescue crew to get a copy of the black box. I want to get a sensor profile of the attacker. Have the majority of our teams head back out and get started on slave and merc raids again. I need you to also start reaching out to independent colonies in the Terminus to offer security services. I want to use our current goodwill to put ourselves out there building emergency shelters for colonies in case of invasion.”

The group all looked at each other knowingly. “You know what it was that hit Shepard, Boss?” Aleria asked.

I tilted my head. “Maybe,” I said. “Without that sensor profile I can’t be sure but from what I can remember it sounds like the MO of the Collectors. I am not planning on taking the fight to them right now, but I want to be able to make sure that they don’t start abducting colonists. They tend to target those with less security and decent numbers in out of the way areas. The Terminus would be the perfect place for them to operate without drawing too much attention to themselves.”

A few nods came, along with a few frowns. We were already doing a fair bit of work in the Terminus, but we didn’t often go to proper colonies. What wasn’t shown in the games, but is referred to, is that there are dozens of known colonies in the Terminus. Not only that, but there were even several warlords with their own small fleets. They weren’t united or anything, but if the Citadel were to try take over, it would lead to war. They even had a few dreadnoughts out there. I had never come up against them, but it was a well-known fact amongst the people in this galaxy that if all of the ‘independent’ warlords, governments and factions that operated in the Terminus systems came together, they would be enough to defeat whole fleets from the Citadel.

This was the reason that the Council was trying to avoid war with the Terminus. They would eventually win, no doubt about that, but the death toll would likely be massive. Even though they would win a battle, the campaign to pacify the Terminus would take decades, if not longer. Not to mention, if they did go to war with the Terminus, groups like Blue Suns, Blood Pack and Eclipse would join the war on the Terminus side out of principle. With their massive numbers and their embedded positions in asari, turian and salarian space, it would cause major damage and confusion.

No one wanted to guess what the batarians would do. No one needed to.

As it was, there were some of the groups that would raid border colonies belonging to the Citadel, until the Citadel stopped establishing colonies too close to the border. Even now, there were some of the more reckless Terminus groups that would raid into Citadel space if they thought they could get away with it.

We were not in a position to challenge even medium warlords in the Terminus just yet. We would be soon though. Once enough of our ships have been fitted with the MAC guns Nethalie designed, we would be able to take on nearly any force and win.

But those were thoughts of tomorrow. There were plans to commit to before then. I also needed to get hold of Liara to make sure that she recovers Jane’s body, or even have my own people do it, if it wasn’t done already.

I was going to ask someone to do that when a massive wave of exhaustion came over me. My head dipped and everything went fuzzy for a moment.

“Alright,” Liserias declared to the room, waking me up a little. “It’s time for Brock to sleep. Everyone has work to get on with. We can talk again tomorrow. He’s not going anywhere for a while so no need to worry about that.”

Everyone muttered their goodbyes, with Persei and Aleria both giving me small hugs as they did. Klara gripped my hand and gave me a kiss on the cheek before she reluctantly left.

Finally, it was just me and Torrin. Neither of us spoke for a moment. Finally, in my drugged-up mind, I got curious. I pulled the blanket over to one side to look at me leg.

There were bandages around my thigh and there was a compression sock on my lower leg. I pushed down the compression sock and looked at my leg underneath.

My leg was no longer scarred. The skin was its normal tone, but there were none of the welts from knife scars, or the shiny patch of hairless skin from the burns. Everything looked exactly like it had before I was captured.

I felt a sense of loss then, like something was missing. In a sense, I had earned those scars. I had them as a sign that I wouldn’t break from the difficulties I faced. I could see them and remember what had happened. Now that was gone on that leg.

It made no logical sense but I couldn’t help feeling that loss anyway.

I sighed and pulled the sock up and covered my legs again. Torrin just watched me the whole time without saying a word.

“We need to get hold of Liara,” I said tiredly, leaning back on my pillow. “If I remember anything from the collectors, they will try get Jane’s body and experiment on it. If the Alliance hasn’t already gotten it, then we need to make sure the collectors don’t.”

“I’ll give her a call,” Torrin said. He hesitated for a long moment. “She came to see you while you were out.”

I blinked slowly. “Jane or Liara?” I asked.

“Shepard,” Torrin said. Right, he wasn’t close to her. “She was here apologising what she did. She seemed genuine. She was going to talk to you when she got back.” His mandibles clenched slightly. “She also claimed that she knew that it was us that blew up the reaper, though she didn’t know how.”

I huffed and closed my eyes. “She wasn’t an idiot,” I replied. “She had good instincts too.”

“She was a good fighter,” Torrin acknowledged. He hesitated again. “She would have been a good Spectre.”

I opened my eyes and stared at Torrin. That was glowing praise from my turian friend. “She still can be,” I revealed. “Just make sure that Cerberus get the body from Liara.” I closed my eyes again. “Miranda will take a crack at resurrection. You’ll see.”

He may have responded to that but another wave of exhaustion crashed over me and I was out like a light.

…

(Jack Harper/The Illusive Man POV)

the end of his cigarette glowed brightly, casting a red light over his face for a moment, as he considered the reports in front of him. “Are you sure you can do this?” he asked.

The dark-haired beauty next to him nodded confidently, her arms crossed under her generous bust. “Yes,” Miranda replied. “Though I would feel more confident if I could put in extra control measures.”

“We will do what we can to ensure that she won’t turn against our interests,” he said firmly. “Make it so that no one else will reach out to her and isolate her with soft policy. But we can’t do any personality adjustments. Too many people would notice it. She was too much of a public profile. That sort of thing would be noticed and would damage her credibility and therefore her usefulness.”

“She has a noted hatred of Cerberus for the operation on Akuze,” Miranda rebutted. “An adjustment might be necessary just to get her to talk to us.”

Jack considered that for a moment, but shook his head. “We can set it up so that when she comes out of it, she is pushed into a situation where she needs to rely on us,” he said. “Having a willing Shepard working for us would do so much good to humanity. Cerberus needs to take advantage of the bonuses that humanity received from the aliens. We will not fall behind. To do that, we need Shepard to be herself, which means no adjustments. However,” he amended, “I presume I don’t need to tell you to add monitors to her, just in case.”

“Of course not,” Miranda replied, uncrossing her arms. “But first, we need the body.”

“That is being arranged,” he assured her. “You need to go to the exchange. Take Jacob with you. I understand that you managed to recruit him.”

He was amused to see the tiniest flicker of self-loathing cross the young woman’s face. He knew that she had seduced the former special forces soldier to get him to join Cerberus. He also knew that Miranda had some reservations against using her body that way.

Not that it mattered. She could dislike it all she wanted as long as she did what she had to, to achieve results. It was one of the things that made her such a good asset. There were no bounds she wouldn’t cross to get the results he wanted her to get. He was confident that she would be able to get Jane Shepard.

It would be the next thing that he could use to get over Brock Nielson. The man had managed to get on Shepard’s crew and had made a name for himself. He had just awakened from his coma and was already using his goodwill to promote his company, even while lying in his hospital bed after receiving a cloned leg.

Jack could appreciate the dedication to cause. He only wished that Brock had been more open to working with Cerberus directly. The things they could have done together to promote humanity would have been legendary.

Now, they were in a competition, he and Brock Nielson. It was a competition that they both acknowledged privately, Jack truly believed. A competition on who could benefit humanity as a whole in the galaxy. And right now, as much as he was loath to admit it, Brock was winning.

Getting Shepard back to life and working with Cerberus would put the ball in Jack’s court. He would be able to get Shepard to represent Cerberus as a shield of humanity, spreading good throughout the galaxy. It was the kind of legitimacy that people could only dream about. The medical innovations from it alone would make Cerberus a leader in the field. Add to that Jane Shepard, Council Spectre, waving Cerberus’ banner and their legitimacy would be impossible to ignore.

“Very well,” Miranda said, breaking him out of his thoughts. “I will go handle the details.”

He watched her leave, taking another drag of his cigarette, before turning to look at the star out of his window. Cerberus wouldn’t be left behind. Brock had done much to promote humanity. This was great. It also made it easier for Jack’s agents to get into previously unattainable positions, or it would once the influence of it all spread. For that service to humanity alone, Jack could be grateful.

However, they were still not on the same side, and Jack knew that the time was coming soon that he would be cutting the cord on that relationship for good. He just needed a little longer and it would work. Twenty years of waiting, and now he could see the end in sight. The galaxy didn’t even know his name, but eventually…

Cerberus would rule.

…

1 film, 4 reviews

Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

Thessian Suns Publication

By Helia Mis’audis

I was surprised that it had taken so long for me to start this vid series. Now I am glad that I am watching it. I couldn’t stop! The natural scenery was absolutely beautiful and the characters were all so wonderful and compelling, even the villains. If all human ‘cinema’ were of this quality, I would never complain.  

Sur’kesh Leaf Script

By Silarn Moduk

This vid is from a genre called fantasy, as is based on a book series of the same name. It is a remarkable adaptation, especially for the times. The directing was spectacular, as were the casting choices. It had suitably engaging characters of various tropes, including the comic relief and the serious mentor. It kept me engaged the entire time, despite the length which would usually be prohibitive. Overall, a must watch.

Palaven Daily Call

By Marticus Lossus

I received a recommendation from a colleague for this, and I am glad that I watched it. It is suitably dark, tense, gripping and tragic, all while being loveable and engaging. The evil creatures (goblins and orcs and ogres) were excellent ‘bad guys’, suitably threatening and terrifying. The main cast were regular, flawed and relatable people. All of it was geared to making the vid as entertaining and captivating as possible. I couldn’t recommend it more highly.

The Krogan Word

By Ognut Grax

Looonngg! But that balrog! Ooh that made my blood sing! That thing was better than dinosaurs! I need to find me one of them! Or, you know, find a failed salarian experiment that makes one. Same thing really. 

…

A/N – Before anyone comments, yes I did this film early as a krogan only review, but I didn’t do the other films in the series or the other races reactions to it. As such, I copied the earlier krogan review for this one but will be able to do fresh ones for the next two updates to finish the trilogy.

Other than that, a few micro time skips to bring us to the end of ME1. Next will be a prologue and beginning of the transition arc for ME2. Anyway, until next time!