by Cole Price
Just like that, Sparatus rose and left the table, brushing past Shepard on his way out the door. In shock, Tevos and Valern watched the turian depart. Udina simply gazed at the Crucible images, shaking his head in weary disgust.
Tevos sighed. “It appears we cannot lend you the Council’s support at this moment. The cruel and unfortunate truth is that while the Reapers focus on Earth, we can prepare and regroup.”
“If we can manage to secure our own space,” offered Valern, “then we may once again consider aiding you.”
“I’m sorry, Commander.” Tevos stared at Shepard, not without compassion. “For now, that is the best we can do.”
* * *
“They’re a bunch of self-concerned jackasses, Shepard!”
Back in his office, Udina had recovered some of his strength of will, replacing shock with a towering rage. I sat down and leaned back into a couch a few meters away from the Councilor’s desk, too tired to do anything but watch as Shepard and Udina discussed the situation.
“We may have saved their asses when Sovereign attacked. We may have a spot on the Council. But humanity will always be considered second-rate!”
“How can they be such fools?” Shepard folded his arms and stared out the windows, watching the skycar traffic on the Presidium ring outside. “Ashley Williams predicted this years ago, while fought Saren. Said the Council would throw humanity to the wolves the moment the saw the need. I didn’t want to agree with her at the time, but damn if she hasn’t turned out to be right.”
“They’re scared, and they’re looking out for themselves.”
“Our people are scared,” said a flanging voice, “and we’re looking out for them, the best we know how.”
Councilor Sparatus stepped down into Udina’s work area. The change in his demeanor surprised me. Gone now, the shock and fear he had displayed in the Council’s private chambers. Now he walked with confidence, his predator’s gaze assessing Shepard and Udina with barely a glance for me.
“Councilor,” greeted Udina, his emotions now concealed under his smooth diplomat’s tone.
“Commander. I’ve had a chance to consult with the Hierarchy. I still can’t give you what you need, but I can tell you how to get it.”
“I’m listening,” said Shepard.
“Primarch Fedorian has proposed a war summit,” the turian explained. “He wants to meet with the leaders of the other major powers to discuss a combined effort against the Reapers.”
“That’s good news. What’s the catch?”
“Unfortunately, we lost contact with him soon after the Reapers hit Palaven. The summit won’t proceed without him. We need to find him, and get him clear of the fighting. Normandy is one of the few ships that could extract the Primarch undetected.”
Shepard folded his arms. “So far, all I’ve heard is how I can help you.”
“It may seem that way. But if this summit takes place, the leaders there will be the ones deciding our future. The fate of our fleets. Where they fight, and with whom. A grateful Primarch would be a valuable ally in your bid to unite us.”
“We’re at war, and you want me to play politician?”
“If it gets you what you need, what does it matter?”
Shepard made a disgusted noise in his throat, but then he dropped his arms and nodded in agreement.
“Our latest intelligence says that the Primarch has been evacuated to a base on Palaven’s largest moon,” said Sparatus. “It’s the most heavily fortified position in Palaven orbital space. There or nowhere, he can hold out long enough for you to reach him.”
“Thanks,” said Shepard. “I’ll talk to my chain of command and see if I can get clearance for the mission.”
“Hmm.” The turian cocked his head, staring at Shepard for a long moment. “You know, Commander, I find myself wishing I had taken you and your wife much more seriously, a long time ago.”
“With all due respect, Councilor, we might not be in this mess if you had.”
“You may be right.” Sparatus opened his omni-tool. “Perhaps I can undo at least one mistake. I’ve spoken with the others. If Councilor Udina has no objection, we’re prepared to reinstate your Spectre status. That should prevent any interference from your Alliance chain of command, and other resources will be made available to you as well.”
“No objection whatsoever,” said Udina at once. “I’ll also ensure that Normandy is placed on detached duty under your command, and pushed to the top of the Navy’s logistics and personnel queues.”
Shepard opened his own omni-tool to accept the Spectre authentication codes. “Thank you, Councilor,” he said sincerely.
The turian gave a sharp nod, and then turned on his heel to depart. “Good day.”
“Well,” Shepard drawled, once Sparatus was well out of earshot. “That went better than expected.”
“It’s a start,” agreed Udina.
Chapter 8 : Menae
12 April 2186, Citadel Docks
After our audience with the Council, Shepard and I threw ourselves into desperate work. We had reason to hurry. If the Reapers had Palaven under siege, the Primarch might have very little time. Goddess alone knew how we would salvage the situation, if we arrived only to find Fedorian a casualty of war.
Before the Reapers arrived, Shepard boasted to me that Normandy could be in the air on an hour’s notice. As it happened, Alliance Command had not received nearly that much warning. Fortunately several crewmen had been on board at the moment of the invasion: the pilot, Lieutenant Jeff “Joker” Moreau; the chief engineer, Lieutenant Gregory Adams; and a few other technicians and Marine guards. Once Ashley Williams and James Vega arrived, Ashley took command and got Normandy into the air, rushing to Shepard’s rescue in Vancouver harbor.
Somehow the skeleton crew made it to Mars and then to the Citadel, but only at extraordinary risk. In a combat situation we would have found the odds stacked long against us.
I think Shepard first intended to make Lieutenant-Commander Williams his Executive Officer, assuming their personal disputes could be set aside for the duration of the conflict. With Ashley in the hospital, he had to re-think. After another meeting with Admiral Saneyoshi, Shepard returned to Normandy and went to talk to Lieutenant Adams on the engineering deck. After clearing the air over Shepard’s time with Cerberus, the two men shook hands and Adams became the ship’s new XO.
Fortunately Saneyoshi saw reason, once Shepard had endorsements from Udina and Hackett and a set of Spectre authentication codes in hand. New personnel began to report to the Normandy airlock by the dozen. Shepard and Adams verified that these were good crewmen, not the sweepings of every Alliance post within reach. Equipment, spare parts, and consumables followed. As the hours passed, Normandy came closer and closer to Shepard’s notion of combat-readiness.
Meanwhile, I worked frantically to convert Normandy into a command node for the Shadow Broker’s network. By some miracle, I already had most of the equipment on hand on the Citadel, stored away in a secure bay as a “hot spare” for the other five command ships. A word with Lieutenant Adams, and a flying squad of new Normandy crewmen descended on the secure bay like a swarm of akris. Within two hours, we had transferred everything to the ship and unpacked it in Miranda Lawson’s old office.
Integrating my equipment into the ship’s systems proved surprisingly easy, once I asked EDI for help. Many human eyes went wide when the ship’s computer began actively assisting me, with every sign of self-willed initiative. Apparently EDI’s status as a full-fledged AI had been kept secret.
In any case, with human labor to install the equipment and EDI to perform system integration, I got back online with the Broker network much faster than expected.
About 0300, we finished the last of the physical labor. I thanked the Normandy crew and gently shooed them out of my new office. Then I installed my personal authentication codes, connected to the Broker’s galaxy-wide network, and verified that I could exercise command functions. I ran a seri
es of integrity checks. Finally I transferred my information drone – Glyph – to the office machinery.
Then I locked the door behind me, and went in search of Shepard.
I found him in the CIC, having an impromptu meeting with Lieutenant Adams, Lieutenant Vega, and three very junior officers who had just transferred aboard. A glance at his face told me everything I needed to know. I caught his eye and gave him that look.
Shepard, it’s time to see to your own needs before you collapse. Or before I wrap a biotic field around you and haul you off to bed by main force.
I have heard a legend that human couples develop a form of telepathy after many years of married intimacy. When asari are involved, the process moves much more quickly.
Shepard caught the message, glanced at his omni-tool for the time, and made a microscopic nod. “We need to wrap this up. Lieutenant Adams, you have the conn until 0800, after which the draft watch rotation takes effect. I will come back on duty by 0900, at which time I want us under way and on course for Palaven.”
Everyone nodded and murmured acknowledgement of his orders.
“One last detail. This is Dr. Liara T’Soni.”
Adams glanced at me, nodded and smiled. He and I were well-acquainted from our time aboard the original Normandy. Lieutenant Vega was also a friend.The others looked at me with expressions of surprise or unease. I stood on my dignity, giving the young humans my best aristocratic stare.
“She will be on board as an intelligence analyst and scientific specialist,” Shepard continued, glancing around the group with a dour expression. “She also happens to be my wife.”
Nobody moved, although I saw one or two pairs of eyes widen.
“That isn’t going to be a problem, sir,” said Adams, his tone indicating that it had better not be.
“Good. Dismissed.” Shepard turned to the lift at the rear of the CIC. I followed and fell into place at his side.
“Is my presence here going to be a problem?” I asked once the lift doors closed. “I don’t remember there being any issue aboard the old Normandy.”
“We weren’t married then,” said Shepard, covering his face with both hands and massaging his eyes for a moment. “Besides, by the time you and I had a serious relationship under way, everyone on board already had months to get to know you. At the moment, most of our crew average a few hours each under my command.”
“You’re worried about unit cohesion, if the new personnel see me come to your cabin.” I sighed. “Shepard, I could stay down in Miranda’s old office.”
“No. There’s no point in pretending we’re not together.” The lift doors opened. He slipped an arm around my shoulders as we crossed to his cabin door. “Liara, are you sure you’ve caught the implications of what happened to my status, while we were on the Citadel?”
I glanced up at his face. “Yes. You’ve just been appointed an ambassador plenipotentiary.”
He stopped cold and stared at me. “Damn, you’re quick.”
“It seemed obvious enough.”
I continued into his cabin, glancing at the empty fish-tank, his Star of Terra in a presentation box on his desk, a row of his most prized paper books set out on a shelf above. Something seemed off for a moment, and then I realized his model ships had gone missing. I wondered if he would ever have time to rebuild his collection, now that we were at war.
“The Reapers apparently eradicated most of the Alliance government in the first hours of the war,” I continued. “At the moment, Councilor Udina and Admiral Hackett are your senior surviving civilian and military officials. In short, those two men are your government. Since both of them have placed their confidence in you – perhaps reluctantly, in Udina’s case . . .”
“Yes. Now throw in my reinstated Spectre status, my close and continuing association with the Shadow Broker, and the current very confused situation in the galaxy. Right now, God help us, I may be the best tool humanity has left to pull together an alliance. I think the two of them will support any commitments I make.”
“Staff Commander William Allen Shepard,” I murmured, stepping close and resting my hands on his chest. “The third most powerful human in the galaxy.”
“Maybe.” He wrapped his arms around me. “So long as I don’t abuse the position and no one asks too many awkward questions.”
“I think most of your people have other things to worry about at the moment. So what does that have to do with where I sleep?”
“I may have mentioned that close and continuing association with the Shadow Broker.” He gave me a very weary smile. “Liara, all other considerations aside, you and I will need a private space to consult and make plans. No sense in having us quartered two decks apart.”
“You’re probably right.”
“The crew will figure it out,” he said confidently.
“If you say so.” I lay my head against his broad chest and closed my eyes for a moment, letting fatigue get the better of me. “Shepard, this is going to be a terrible time for everyone. We will need each other more than ever.”
“I know.” He rested his cheek against my crest, warm and comforting. “On that note, in less than five hours we’re going to be on our way to Palaven. We had better get some sleep.”
“Oh Goddess,” I said suddenly.
“What is it?”
“Shepard, I don’t think I have anything with me but the clothes on my back. I didn’t take time to buy any personal supplies on the Citadel.”
“Hmm. I’m suddenly reminded of a certain asari scientist I rescued from Therum, a few years back. I think we can spare a few things from ship’s stores. So long as you don’t need something like a Cision Pro Mark 4 toothbrush.”
I lifted my head to glare at him. “Is that some kind of joke?”
He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I’ll have to introduce you to Specialist Traynor . . .”
* * *
12 April 2186, Trebia System Space
As it happened, I met Samantha Traynor just a few hours later.
Shepard and I managed four hours of restless sleep, interrupted by the first of a series of stress-nightmares on his part. Not nearly enough for either of us, but we pulled ourselves out of bed all the same. We soon rebuilt the morning routine we had established during our brief idyll on Illium, months before. I had just finished a shower and emerged from the refresher cubicle, when I realized we had a visitor.
“Conmmander Shepard? I’m . . . oh.”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw a young female human, dark and rather attractive, in an undress duty uniform. Her rank tabs indicated a technical specialist rather than a petty officer. At that moment she had apparently lost her train of thought, her eyes wide as she watched me cross the cabin.
What is disturbing her?
Then I realized I was wearing nothing but water and a rather small towel.
Finally she found her voice, although it still didn’t seem to be entirely under her command. “Uh – oh – er, I beg your pardon! I thought you were alone.”
I caught a flicker of amusement in Shepard’s eyes as he glanced back at me as well. “Specialist Traynor, this is my wife, Dr. Liara T’Soni.”
“How do you do?” she greeted me, still flustered.
“Very well, thank you, Specialist.” With malice aforethought, I set the towel aside and began to pull my clothes on. I didn’t hurry.
“Oh. Oh dear . . .”
Shepard took pity on her. “Slow down, Specialist Traynor. You’re doing fine. What’s our status?”
“Sir.” Traynor finally regained her self-control. “Lieutenants Adams and Vega completed our provisioning by 0600, after which we departed the Citadel for the mass-relay network. We’ve just dropped into normal geometry in the outskirts of Trebia system. I came up to inform you . . .”
Shepard nodded. “That’s fine, Specialist. In future I suggest you place a message in my queue or use the intercom if I’m not on duty.”
�
�Aye-aye, sir. In any case, I just wanted to say that I’m honored to serve under you, Commander. For as long as you need me, of course. I was only here to assist with the retrofits.”
EDI’s voice broke into the conversation. “Shepard, some of our systems require further testing. Specialist Traynor was extremely effective during installation. I would prefer that she remain.”
Shepard nodded. “Got it, EDI.”
Traynor frowned in confusion. “Wait. Since when does a virtual intelligence express preferences?”
I smiled to myself as I pulled on my jacket.
So here we have another new initiate to this ship’s secrets.
“EDI is an AI,” Shepard explained. “Fully self-aware.”
Traynor’s eyes went wide with chagrin. “Oh! I knew it. I knew Joker was lying!”
“Jeff requested that I pretend to be a simple VI in order to protect myself. I apologize for the deception.”
“Thanks, EDI.” Traynor smiled, shifting her weight with unease. “And I apologize for all those times I talked about how, er, attractive. Your voice. Was.”
“Actually, Specialist, it’s a good thing you came to see me,” said Shepard. “I understand you’re an expert in communications and data management, with degrees in physics and systems engineering.”
“That’s right, Commander. I’m not really a soldier. I’ve never even served on board a ship before.”
“You’ll do fine. Liara, would you join us?”
I walked over to them, my mission outfit in order, picking up a datapad along the way.
“Traynor, Dr. T’Soni is going to be serving as my J2. You will find that she has a very keen eye for useful intelligence, and an extremely broad network of assets and resources. She’s a civilian, but I want you to place yourself at her disposal, starting immediately.”
“Um, yes, Commander.”
I thought fast, seeing some of the possibilities in the arrangement. “Specialist, why don’t you come down to my office for a few minutes? I think you would do well as a watch officer in the CIC, with limited access to my network as well as the Alliance channels . . .”