Chapter Text
Let's not do that again.
The Butcher of Torfan lay on his side which had taken the brunt of the impact when his fall had ended rather abruptly when he smashed against what he thought was another one of those collector platforms.
Like the ones above, Shepard was hopeful that this platform came with some sort of console. That way he could activate it, and be able to reunite with his squad and then get the hell off this ship.
Blearily looking up he could still see the faint outlines of the platforms that he and his squad had just been fighting on. He couldn't be sure how long or how far he had fallen when he was knocked off the platform, but for the moment he knew his squad remained on the platforms above him, and they were safe. Yet, he wasn't a fool. He understood that the Collectors would retaliate swiftly and throw even more numbers at them.
Pain lanced through his side as he pushed himself into a sitting position. He hissed at the discomfort, but remained sitting as he administrated the medi-gel through his omni-tool and was thankful when the pain began to ebb in his side.
"Shepard?" An accented voice crackled in his ear. "Shepard, do you read me?"
"I'm here."
"Good." Miranda Lawson's tone was clipped and casual. The Ice Queen persona was on full display since they were sharing an open channel with the rest of the squad.
It didn't bother Shepard. If anything it only made him respect her more. She was selfless, putting the mission before her own feelings. She was able to remain focus even through tough adversities. It was one of the traits that he admired most about her.
"Battle master!" Grunt's voice thundered in Shepard's earpiece.
"Damn, Shepard," that was Drek. "I didn't think you would survive that fall."
"Do I need to come rescue you, Shepard?" Garrus asked dryly.
Garrus' remarks were enough for him to crack a smile. "That would be a first, Garrus." He knew his joke landed when he heard the sound of not just Garrus chuckling, but other members of the squad as well.
"Where are you, Shepard?" Miranda's stern voice broke through the mirthful atmosphere. She was willing to be the hardliner in the group in order for them not to get sidetracked. It wasn't a desirable job, but that never seemed to bother Miranda. It wasn't popularity that she wanted, but results.
"Somewhere below the platforms," It wasn't the best answer, but it was all he had at the moment.
"Are you injured?" The barest hint of concern lingered in her tone. It went ignored or unseen by the others.
"I'm fine," he lied, ignoring the numbing pain that still resonated within his side despite the medi-gel. "Chakwas can have me patched up in no time." He could already picture the Normandy's doctor's friendly frown when he arrived to the med bay after this mission. "She wouldn't have it any other way."
"Have you ever completed a mission without having to go to the med bay afterwards, Shepard?" Garrus asked.
"I like to keep the good doctor busy."
"Shepard," Miranda's voice cut through the banter between Shepard and Garrus. "Do you see the control console?"
"Let me check," he got to his feet, his hand on the wall to help brace him. He was unsteady, his legs wobbled beneath him. He took a few cautious steps, keeping his hand on the wall as he moved around it to get in view of the control console.
"Yeah, I see it," he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Good," Miranda's severity was slightly lessened at the news. "EDI will walk you through priming the platform and directing it back to us."
"Understood," Shepard replied. "There's something else."
"What?" Miranda asked attentively.
"The collector who fell with me," he relayed, spotting the collector by the console. It was on its back and unmoving. It didn't seem to pose any sort of threat.
"Is it alive?"
"No," Shepard answered, "But I'm not taking any chances."
"ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL."
The collector suddenly began writhing on the ground as it was enveloped by a fiery glow. The sudden sight of the supposedly dead collector become possessed was enough to momentarily enthrall Shepard who silently watched the process. He knew it was complete when the now possessed collector bolted to its feet. The Collector drone was now a vehicle for the Reaper known as Harbinger.
"Shit," Shepard opened fire on the possessed collector.
Undeterred by the bullets, Harbinger launched itself towards him. Swatting the pistol out of Shepard's hand, leaving the first human Spectre helpless as he watched it bounce off of the platform.
"Shepard," Harbinger growled, before delivering a pulsating punch which connected with Shepard's chest plate that sent him reeling.
He tumbled several feet from the bone breaking punch, unable to keep his balance he fell on his back. Pain flooded through his body while he groaned and stirred on the ground. He felt as if he had just been run over by a Mako.
Shepard raised his head slightly, fighting the sudden wave of dizziness that met his movement. His eyes went to his now dented chest plate. It had been dented inwards from the impact of Harbinger's punch, hairline cracks spread from the centre point resembling a spidery web across his chest plate.
That wasn't good, he groaned. He propped himself up by his elbows fighting through the pain that was coursing through him.
"Shepard?" Miranda's voice was buzzing in his ear. "What's going on?"
"I…I," he stammered, with the wind knocked out of him it was difficult for him to speak. "I have company."
Miranda's voice was drowned out by Harbinger. The collector drone's body pulsated with energy giving it a haunting hue, while its eyes which were already darker then the void itself were now wreathed in a fiery tint that made it look as if the Collector's four eyes were ablaze.
"You cannot avoid the inevitable tide that will sweep across the galaxy."
"Shepard?" Miranda's icy persona was cracking as genuine concern seeped into her tone.
She wasn't the only one. A wave of voices from his other squad members filled Shepard's head instantaneously all of them talking at once. The tangle of voices was enough to bring about a growing headache for the already dizzy Commander. His disoriented mind had problems sifting through the bundle of voices.
Wanting to stop the headache he cut off his earpiece to the others. The risky action provided him with silence and he was rewarded when the headache began to subside. However, looking forward he realized he had other problems to worry about seeing the Harbinger possessed collector approach him.
Harbinger yanked Shepard to his feet effortlessly. The abrupt and jerky movements were enough for Shepard to bring back his dizziness. He was barely able to register the possessed collector's face which was only inches away from his.
"This is true power!" Harbinger slammed Shepard into the wall, eliciting a grunt from him and a loud crack from his armor that signaled further damaged had been done.
The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, but he refused to show weakness in front of Harbinger. Shepard raised his head, his vision still hazy from having his head slammed against the wall, but that didn't stop him from meeting Harbinger's cold deadly stare.
"What…What are you?"
"Your salvation."
He felt icy talons of fear clasp around his heart at the unexpected and chilling answer. Shepard tried to move but Harbinger's grip was too strong, one hand on Shepard's left gauntlet and the other on his chest plate. He was effectively pinned to the wall and at the whim of Harbinger.
"That's not what I'd call it," Shepard barked out a laugh. It was hoarse, and weak.
"You do not yet comprehend your place in the universe."
"My place?" Shepard scoffed.
Harbinger's hand that was resting on Shepard's chest plate moved to his throat and began to squeeze. "We will ascend humanity onto a new plane of existence."
"Y-You mean husks!" he spat; white splotches were beginning to creep into his vision.
"You will know pain, Shepard," Harbinger taunted, its grip on Shepard's gauntlet was getting so tight that he could hear the material beginning to crack.
"S-So what are you w-waiting for?" Shepard shouted defiantly, "K-Kill me!"
That caused Harbinger to loosen its grip around Shepard's throat. "Kill you, Shepard?" It repeated in an almost mocking tone.
"Yeah, that's what you want." Shepard was silently relieved that the pressure had been loosened. The white splotches in his vision were receding, and his breaths were slow and haggard, but not as painful as it had been under Harbinger's suffocating grip.
"It will not be swift," Harbinger revealed. "As you breathe and squirm, we will carve open your body to study your genetic material and to measure your potential."
He tasted the bile burning in his throat as he reflected on the horrendous fate that the Reapers had in store for him.
"You will live, Shepard," Harbinger assured him. "We will break you down in order for you to reach transcendence."
That couldn't be good, he felt his stomach give a painful lurch. There was no way in hell he was going to allow the Reapers to repurpose him. To turn his body into their laboratory to allow them to dissect him while he still breathed. Or worse twist him through indoctrination and implants the way Sovereign did to Saren. He would not allow himself to become their tool and their herald.
"There is a united galaxy out there that will stop you!" His tone was strong to camouflage the lie and his doubts on the very words he spoke.
"Your kind cannot comprehend our power," Harbinger replied, its dark eyes blazing in an orange glow.
"Even now our pawns are in motion, infiltrating your ranks, waiting on our orders to bring your governments down. Just like the cycles before you. You cannot resist. You will fail. It is inevitable."
Indoctrination, Shepard thought numbly, understanding at once what Harbinger was referring to at the mention of pawns. A sliver of fear stirred in his heart upon realizing that the Reapers had already successfully permeated the ranks of the different species' governments.
Harbinger was right. Shepard could never comprehend the Reapers purpose or their power. But that didn't mean he was going to lie down and accept his fate.
"C-Combat drone engage."
A whistle and a swirl of light appeared behind Harbinger as the combat drone materialized. It quickly let loose an electric charge towards Harbinger. It snarled turning towards the drone that it saw as nothing more than a pest.
It was the distraction that Shepard needed with Harbinger's attention on the combat drone. It was his turn to strike. His omni-blade shimmered to life before he plunged it into the collector's back between its shoulder blades, cutting deep into the collector's flesh.
Harbinger let out a half growl and half groan at the surprise attack. "This isn't over, Shepard." The collector trembled, as the pulsating energy around it began to wane, "Releasing this form." The collector crumpled to the ground before turning to dust.
The omni blade dissipated as did the combat drone.
Shepard collapsed to his knees. The beating he had taken from Harbinger had only added to the injuries and pain he had experienced from the fall itself. His back ached from where Harbinger had slammed it against the wall. He was still a bit woozy from when he nearly suffocated under Harbinger's grip. The pain in his side from the fall had returned in full force.
"Shepard!" a recognizable voice cried out in the darkness.
Confused, he raised his head to see a figure approaching him. He was unsure if he was hallucinating or not when the figure turned into Miranda Lawson.
"What happened?" she crouched down in front of him, but made no move to embrace him or comfort him. Instead, she used her omni-tool to scan him to get a proper diagnosis on his injuries.
When their eyes met he could see the genuine fear and relief shimmer in her blue eyes. The rare display of vulnerability on her end nearly had him grab her hand, but he restrained himself.
The two lovers' reunion was neither romantic nor emotional. It was interrupted as abruptly as it had started when the other squad members followed behind Miranda. Garrus and Tali were the next to reach Shepard; Tali's voice was unbridled in her genuine concern for his health and her relief at his survival. Even Garrus, guarded and disciplined, his tone had given way to his relief at seeing Shepard having survived his ordeal.
"What's the diagnosis?" Shepard asked.
Miranda frowned. "You've suffered a few cracked ribs, with some other sprains and other contusions, but no broken bones, it seems." She stood up from her crouched position.
"That all?" He had been expecting worse, but nonetheless he was sure that he would be seeing the inside of the med bay for at least a day or two once they returned to the Normandy.
He pushed himself to his feet refusing assistance when Garrus tried to offer it. He winced when he came to his full height. Looking up to see the other squad mates a respectful distance from him. Their bodies signaled their weariness at their tough fight against the Collectors, but many of them straightened up when he turned in their direction. Determined and willing to keep fighting to insure they successfully completed this mission.
He was pleased and proud of all of them. He wasn't going to lie to them and tell them the worse of the fight was behind them, because he knew even now Harbinger was direction his collector minions and reaper tools-husks, scions, and abominations to try to intercept or destroy them from leaving this ship.
So instead, he kept it simple, and light.
"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I think I've had enough of this ship."
It was such a simple thing.
Shepard mused as he took in his reflection in the mirror of his private bathroom. And for the longest time he couldn't do it without feeling anger and revulsion bubbling up within. When Cerberus brought him back to life with the Lazarus Project, Shepard was plagued by these grisly fiery scars that covered most of his face and had even reached down onto his neck. Even his blue eyes weren't spared; the scars had degenerated leading to glowing sections to appear within the irises.
His scars had only worsened due to his ruthless tendencies. The Butcher of Torfan finally resembled the monster that so many believed he was due to his previous actions and decisions throughout his service. Strangers would flinch at his appearance when he passed them. Even some of his crewmembers couldn't look him in the eyes, unable to take in his grisly appearance, while others could only stare at them, ensnared by the scars' grotesqueness.
He had never been a superficial person, but the scars on his face and neck had made him extremely sensitive about his appearance. They were a reminder of his death, that he had been pulled out of the void and brought back to life. The only evidence of his resurrection remained with these scars- the touch of death, he heard some of the crewmembers call them.
The scars reminded him of something besides his death, they were a testament of the methods Cerberus used to resurrect him. Flesh synthesized with cybernetic implants. He was no longer just a man; he was something more.
These constant reminders of his death and what it took to bring him back to life had shaken Shepard to his core. He had been deeply troubled by it all. Haunted by the memories of his death, he had tried to bury it. All of the pain, the emotions, the memories, he buried deep within himself. He had put up his stoic soldier persona, the unshaken role as Commander, and continued to move forward focused on the Collectors and Reapers in his unwavering duty in stopping them.
And yet all it took was one glance at his scars to undo everything. All of the memories, and painful emotions he tried to bury would come flooding back to him at the sight of those scars.
Now they were finally gone. Chakwas had removed them during Shepard's short stay in the med bay following their mission within the Collector ship and his confrontation with Harbinger. The reddish cracks in his skin had dissipated. There wasn't the faintest hint or trace of the ugly scars that had come from the Lazarus Project.
Looking at his reflection, he couldn't help but smile. He ran his hand across his cheek, no longer feeling the cracks and bumps of the scars that had once marred his face, now all his fingers felt were the rough stubble of dark hair.
We are your salvation.
Shepard recoiled. Surprised, and caught off guard by the sudden reminder of his encounter with Harbinger onboard the collector ship. He was half expecting to see the possessed collector drone looking back at him, but it wasn't there just Shepard's reflection.
He sighed. Rubbing at his eyes, having had enough he left the bathroom he still felt some discomfort from his brief, but brutal altercation with Harbinger. Chakwas had assured him that it would go away completely in the next few days.
Shepard wasn't worried about the bruises that he suffered from Harbinger it was the memories that were bothering him. When he replayed Harbinger's threats in his mind, the words had been grave and the warnings were ominous.
This wasn't a war for the Reapers it was a purge. There would be battles and skirmishes, but that wouldn't stop the Reapers from completing their objectives of harvesting every species in the galaxy.
We are beyond your comprehension, Sovereign had told Shepard this when they were on Virmire. It was there that Shepard had discovered the horrifying truth in realizing the true evil behind the rogue Spectre Saren. The threat that was great enough to wipe out the entire galaxy-the Reapers.
There were only a few instances in Shepard's life where he had felt genuine fear. His first encounter with Sovereign on Virmire was on his short list, as was his final confrontation with Saren on the Citadel, the destruction of the first Normandy, and the most recent addition was his altercation with Harbinger aboard the Collector ship.
This fear was difficult for him to describe. It came to him like an icy numbness that wormed its way into his heart, chilling his blood, slowing his thoughts and all but paralyzing him. It was a fear that he could not bury. That he could not overcome with courage or adrenaline. It left him exposed and vulnerable in ways that unnerved him.
"Commander Shepard?" EDI's voice broke through his musings.
Thankful for the sudden, but much needed reprieve, he turned to the AI's avatar that appeared in its spot, "Yes, EDI?"
"Liara has located the justicar," EDI informed him, "And has just sent us her last known location."
"Thank you, EDI," Shepard replied.
After their fight with the Collectors, the Normandy had returned to Illium since Shepard wasn't able to go on anymore missions for a couple of days. Shepard took this reprieve in stride, overseeing the installation of several new upgrades for the Normandy, which should pay dividend when they were ready to go through the Omega 4 relay.
It had been Miranda's idea to recruit the justicar. She suggested that they use this time on Illium to try to track the justicar who had been linked to Illium from their dossier on her. Miranda had made a strong case that the justicar's strong biotics, weapon training, and extensive biotic combat experience was a needed addition to their squad.
Shepard had been against the justicar from the beginning when he first received her dossier. His study of her Order's history made him wary of including her into the fray. He was sure that he and this Samara would not see eye to eye on many things, and that their different viewpoints would no doubt clash. Her deep rooted and unflappable sense of justice troubled him.
Yet, in the end Miranda convinced him in saying that the only viewpoint they needed to share for this mission was the threat the Collectors and Reapers posed. So in the end, Shepard relented and agreed to include the justicar in his squad. He knew they needed someone of this Samara's skills to help them in their fight against the Collectors especially since Shiala didn't seem anywhere near fit or ready to resume in their missions.
Chakwas and Mordin were continuing in their discreet studying of Shiala's connection with the Thorian back on Feros and her own indoctrination experience under Sovereign. So far, none of the results had been to Shepard's liking. He was still convinced that Shiala remained the key in discovering a way to effectively combat and hopefully nullify Reaper indoctrination.
After his confrontation with Harbinger, he was more determined than ever to find a way.
For now, he had to focus on recruiting this justicar. He could only hope this was the right decision.
This justicar better be worth it.
It was done.
It wasn't a smooth recruitment, and it involved infiltrating an Eclipse secret base and fighting off the relentless mercenaries to secure some trivial information about a passenger they harbored to secure passage off planet.
The information meant nothing to Shepard, but the justicar's very purpose seemed to revolve around it. The recruitment took an unexpected turn when Samara swore an Oath of Subsumation to Shepard: Pledging her services, her loyalty, and her life to Shepard for the duration of their mission against the Collectors.
The Oath seemed to have impressed the asari detective Anaya, but it meant nothing to Shepard, especially after Samara admitted that she may be forced to kill Shepard if she witnessed or was forced to do dishonorable things under his behest.
If that was the case then Shepard was prepared to handle the justicar if need be. He wasn't going to allow this deluded justicar to judge him on her version of justice and her narrow minded Order. He wouldn't allow anyone to get in the way of his duty, and for the moment, he saw this Samara as more of a threat then an ally, and one that needed to be watched.
For the moment, Shepard had to put aside his suspicions of the justicar.
He was in his cabin, but he wasn't alone. Miranda, Garrus, Tali, Drek, and Jacob were with him, all of them were watching the live broadcast from Shepard's terminal projection on his ship display case. They were all showing various levels of annoyance and frustration at the broadcast. They were voicing their discontent loudly at the historical event that was unfolding before them. Except for Miranda, she remained silent, but her cold eyes signaled the fury that was storming beneath her ice queen persona.
It was a live feed from the Citadel inside the Council Chambers, as the Council had just named Kaidan Alenko a Spectre. Shepard's former squad mate became only the second human to be sworn into the prestigious ranks of Council Spectres and with Shepard's earlier dismissal from the Spectres, it made Kaidan the only active human Spectre.
The Council had just issued their orders for their newly minted Spectre: Bring Shepard in on charges of terrorism and treason for his alleged involvement with Cerberus. That got the loudest reaction from the viewers of Shepard's cabin.
"How could Kaidan agree to this?" Tali asked in complete disbelief. "He was at Virmire!"
"He is refusing to see the bigger threat," Garrus scoffed.
"It's all bullshit," Jacob dismissed, his voice betraying his disgust. "The Alliance, the Council, all of them." He threw up his hands in frustration.
"So what does this mean, Shepard?" Drek asked, shifting in his seat to face Shepard. His four eyes were unblinking, as the others one by one turned away from the broadcast and onto their Commander.
It was a sense of déjà-vu for Shepard. He could easily remember his own publicized appointment into the ranks of the hallowed Council Spectres. His orders so similar to the ones his former friend had just received. It had been tasked to Shepard to bring in the rogue Spectre Saren Arterius, and now Shepard was the rogue Spectre being hunted.
The irony amused him.
Despite all of it, he still had a job to do. His duty was in stopping the Collectors and he wasn't going to allow Kaidan to stop him. His former friend may have balked at the Reaper threat, but Shepard was determined to fight it, and if Kaidan got in his way, then Shepard would do what needed to be done.
Duty always came first for Commander Shepard: Elysium, Torfan, Feros, Virmire, the Battle of the Citadel, and now the Collectors. He would make sure they completed their mission. And if Kaidan had to be killed to insure their success, then Shepard would do it. Kaidan wouldn't be the first to be killed in the name of duty, and he certainly wouldn't be the last.
"It changes nothing." He looked around at the faces in front of him. "Our focus remains the same: Stopping the Collectors. Our fight is with the Reapers."
"And what if Kaidan tries to interfere?" Tali asked, her voice betraying her uncertainty.
"Then I'll kill him," Shepard answered without hesitation.
He saw the tight nod from Garrus. His turian friend had already had his taste of his allies betraying him. His outlook had relatively hardened from the experience.
He couldn't see Tali's expression behind her faceplate, but he had been around his quarian friend long enough to read her body language. She was wringing her hands on her lap, signaling her discomfort at the notion of having to kill their former squad mate, but it seemed Tali caught herself, looking down at her lap, immediately pulling her hands apart and having them rest on her lap. She then looked up at Shepard, and with a shaky breath, she nodded.
Jacob's expression soured briefly at the thought of having to kill Kaidan. He held a different sense of duty and outlook that vastly differed from Shepard's. He quickly hardened his expression into one of determination, but his eyes gave way to his lingering unease.
Drek was the hardest to read. Hardly on expert on batarian body language, Drek was the first batarian he even had a working partnership with, and if Shepard was honest with himself it had turned into friendship. So when he met his friend's four eyed stare, whose expression remained impossible to read, Shepard didn't know what to think. That was until Drek slightly tilted his head to the left.
The gesture completely caught Shepard off-guard, who was aware enough of batarian culture to understand that to be a show of respect. He thought that this move was a culmination of their time together and the friendship they had formed which had only been solidified when Shepard had helped Drek with his personal problem.
Shepard also understood the difficulty and rareness of this particular display from Drek to know it was proper to acknowledge it all be it subtly. So Shepard replied with a tight nod, which Drek returned.
His eyes met hers. Her face remained stoic. Her frosty veneer didn't reveal any of her thoughts or emotions on what he had just said. It was in her eyes that he could see her determination in seeing this mission through.
"We're with you, Shepard."