Book 2, Chapter 2 -- Omega
*****
I was right, of course. I'm not always right, I've been wrong more times than I count, but I know a bullshit artist when I heard one, and the Illusive Man was already proving to be the greatest weaver of bullshit I've had the displeasure of listening to. Of course he knew about the Collectors being responsible for the abductions.
"I had my suspicions, but I needed the proof," he explained, "The Collectors are enigmatic at best. They periodically travel to the Terminus Systems, looking to gather seemingly unimportant items or specimens. Usually in exchange for their technology. When their transactions are complete, they disappear as quickly as they arrived; back beyond the unmapped Omega Four relay. Until now, we've had no evidence of direct aggression by the Collectors."
I was ready to chew him out, but he'd already offered new information. "What's the Omega Four?" I had to ask.
"We assume it leads to the Collector homeworld. However, no ship that's ever passed through the relay has returned to let us know what is on the other side."
"Any idea why a ship has never returned?"
"Our best guess is that the relay reacts differently to Collector vessels, allowing them safe passage. If they can manipulate relays, that's just further evidence of their connection with the Reapers."
At least he was speaking sense regarding that. The Reapers would have pawns ready to do what they wanted if they were trapped in space.
"Okay, why the sudden interest in humanity? We've barely been on the scene for thirty years. The turians are probably the biggest military threat, the salarians regarding science, and the asari regarding Machiavellian politics. Surely those three are the bigger threats?"
"It could for any number of reasons. The most obvious, however, is that humanity played the largest role in Sovereign's destruction. I'm sure that drew their attention." I could only nod his head in agreement. The Alliance had sacrificed many ships and men to ensure the destruction of the Reaper. That would definitely have put the bullseye on us. "What really concerns me is why bother abducting the colonists. Once the humans are paralysed, why not just kill them?"
"I'm glad they're not. I'd just like to find them alive, if possible."
"On that we can agree, Commander. Despite what you may believe, I want to help and protect the colonists. They are humans, just like you and me."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Again, it was just all too neat, like he already knew everything, but was simply drip-feeding it to me so I was kept interested and on his side. I knew I was being played, martialled into a position where I would need to co-operate with him. The idea made me sick as I had a bad feeling already nestling in my gut that it was exactly what I would end up doing. "Listen, it appears you already have it all figured out. What aren't you telling me?"
"The patterns are there, buried in the data. The Council and the Alliance want to believe the Reaper threat died with Sovereign. You and I know better."
"The Council?"
"Full deniability. The Alliance forwarded Donnel Udina as the candidate. I understand you didn't have the best of relationships?"
"Understatement. So I guess he denied everything?"
"They haven't quite written you off as insane, but the Reaper hypothesis has been completely rejected."
I suddenly felt very alone. The Council had basically written me off as a crank, and even if I returned, I'm sure they'd have a million and one questions. As for the Alliance, what would they do with me? The
Normandy
was gone, and I doubt I'd be given my own command after two years in the wilderness. First I'd be interrogated, and I'm not sure they'd believe the whole 'I was dead for two years but Cerberus rebuilt me'. Would probably sound as insane as the Reaper hypothesis to them. I had maybe a few allies in the Alliance, those who survived. Hackett, Anderson, Ash, Joker, Chakwas, a few of the sailors who might have survived. I could approach them directly, but I think even they'd be forced to hand me over until I was cleared, and that would simply take too long.
The longer I thought about it, the more I realised that the Illusive Man was the only option. The Council was a no-go. The Alliance would help me but it would take too long. Cerberus was ready to go now. I could only assume I would be getting resources, so perhaps a ship, weapons, credits, armour and hopefully people.
"Shit," I muttered, running a hand over my short hair.
"Commander, we are at war, and we need humanity's best soldier at the front, leading the way. But you can't do it alone. You're going to need the best."
"I guess my old squad is counted out, right?"
"It's been over two years, Commander. They've moved on with their lives. I've already compiled a list of soldiers, scientists and mercenaries. You'll get dossiers on the best of them. Finding them and convincing them to work with you could be challenging, but you're a natural leader. I'll continue to track the Collectors. When they make their next appearance, I'll notify you and your team. Be ready."
"Spectre status?"
"You can approach the Council but I wouldn't expect a warm welcome. I don't think they'll arrest you, but I'm sure they'll have plenty of questions in regards to where you've been. And if you return to the Citadel, it will attract the attention of the Alliance."
I pinched the bridge of my nose again and sighed. I hated being backed into a corner with only one way out, and I didn't like the way being offered. But I was racking my brain, trying to think of anything else I could do. I still had hope that if I could contact Anderson... but he was 'only' a captain. Hackett? No, even as an admiral, he still reported to superiors. My return would lead to questions...
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
"Send me the dossiers and I'll have a look at them," I stated flatly. Fine, I'd work with them for now, and I'd just bury the hate. Work like a robot until the job was done, then I'd think of something else. First thing, a steaming hot shower so I didn't feel anywhere near as dirty as I did.
"Commander. Two things before you go."
Fuck me, what now?
"First, head to Omega and find Mordin Solus. He's a brilliant salarian scientist. Our intelligence suggests he may know how to counteract the Collectors' paralysing seeker swarms."
"Giving orders already? In case you've forgotten, I don't work for you."
Keep this up, Shepard, and you will be shot in the back of the head. Then buried in some unmarked grave. You know what these people are capable of.
I noticed the Illusive Man just grinned, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm merely giving you direction, Commander. A helpful suggestion. Nothing more. I'm just hoping you make the right choice."
I sighed, as it was nothing but an order, but I couldn't be bothered arguing any longer. "Very well. Point taken. What's the second thing?"
"I've found a pilot I think you may like. I hear he's one of the best. And he's someone you can trust."
Turning around, I was greeted by the sight of my pilot, Joker. Dressed in a Cerberus uniform. He stopped and saluted, not looking ill at ease at all. The first thing I noted was the fact he appeared to be walking unaided. He hadn't walked all that much on the old ship, and when he did, he needed crutches at least. I returned the salute, simply out of habit. "Joker, the fuck are you doing here?" I strode forward and offered my hand, which he accepted immediately. "Can't believe it's you."
""You're one to talk, Commander. I saw you get spaced."
"Good point. Again, I'll ask, the fuck are you doing here, Joker? In that uniform?"
He heard my tone and gestured with his head. ""Come on, we'll walk and talk. Apparently they have something to show us." Falling in alongside, he led me down a series of hallways as he continued to explain. "It all fell apart without you, Commander. Everything you stirred up, the Council just wanted it gone."
"So I've been told. With Udina on the Council, I was going to be fucked over regardless."
"Yeah, don't expect any help from them. Alliance? Doubt they know you're back yet. Once they find out, I'm sure they'll have a few questions. Anyway, after all that, the team was split up. All records from the mission were sealed, by both the Council and the Alliance. And I was grounded."
"What? Why? You're the best damned pilot in the Alliance."
"I was. Post-traumatic stress disorder, they called it. Apparently seeing your Commanding Officer spaced, and feeling guilty about it, was detrimental to my ability to pilot a ship."
"Had it rough?"
"Others have had it worse so I'm not complaining. Just facts, Commander. But in the end, the Alliance took away the only thing that mattered to me. So when Cerberus approached me with the offer to fly again, I accepted."
"No hesitation?"
"Oh, plenty of hesitation, Commander. This is Cerberus we're talking about. Trust me, I remember everything you found, but the Alliance forced me here. Payslip I get each month is a nice bonus. Don't expect we'll be here forever. Sure we'll see a cell once the job is done and we go back."
We stopped at window, overlooking a dark docking area. I assumed there was a ship there. "So any trust in regards to any of the clowns in charge? Cerberus as a whole?"
""Do you trust them, Joker? Cerberus? The Illusive Man?"
"I certainly don't trust Cerberus. This is simply a means to an end. A job. Honestly, I don't really trust anyone. Except you, Commander. And considering they saved your life, and let me fly, I guess they can't be all bad."
"Maybe...."
Joker then gestured out the window. "Then there is this. They only told me about it last night."
The dark silhouette outside was slowly illuminated by a series of lights. An enormous ship. Sleek in design. Painted on the front splitters and on the hull were the words SR-2. Even sitting still in the docking bay, it looked fast. Painted white, black and gold. They were the colours of Cerberus, but at that moment, I didn't mind. Leaning forward, placing a hand on the glass, I simply took it all in. And I knew this was now
my
ship. I would be captain once again. "Wow," I whispered, "She's a real beaut."
"It's good to be home, huh, Commander?"
