18

Frigate "Normandy-SR1"

— WHAT IS THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN?! — Hraston was pouring his anger onto Shepard, — HOW COULD YOU LET HIM SLIP AWAY?! YOU HAD ORDERS TO CAPTURE THE GETH! AND YOU LET HIM GO! Moreover, you prevented your subordinate from shooting him to take him prisoner! And I'm asking you again, Shepard! WHAT IS THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!

— You yourself ordered not to turn the geth into scrap metal, and Sergeant Williams could have hit his vital parts, which could have led to his self-destruction. This is a function all geth have. And since the geth escaped, we still have a chance to catch him. Somewhere. Someday, — Shepard answered. She had already passed the stage of anger, and now she just wanted all this to end. But Hraston was just getting started.

— SOMEWHERE?! SOMEDAY?! And when do you plan to do this, huh?!

— When the entire team recovers.

— Ahhhh, the teaaaam! I wanted to talk to you separately about your team! Asari, quarian, krogan! TURIAN! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! How could you bring a TURIAN onboard?! Do you need a history lesson?! FINE! Topic — First Contact War!!!

— I'm not a xenophobe and I'm perfectly fine with all alien races. I'd even bring a volus here if he's as strong a biotic as an asari matriarch.

— THEN EVEN USE A HANAR ENGINEER!!! But a turian?! How could you let a TURIAN onto the most advanced ship of the Alliance?!

— Actually, the Normandy was built jointly with the Hierarchy as a sign of reconciliation with the Alliance. — Shepard calmly answered. She had prepared these phrases for journalists, but it seems she has to answer now.

— What the hell kind of reconciliation with these birds?! They're our enemies! The entire Galaxy is just waiting to annihilate us! And you let in one representative of each race. A C-Sec investigator! Leader of a krogan clan! Daughter of a traitorous matriarch! And also the daughter of a Migrant Fleet admiral!!!

— All of them are professionals and an integral part of the landing party.

— THEY ARE ALL SPIES, SHEPARD, SPIES! And each one of their own race! You might as well have dragged a batarian in here! — now that was too much. Shepard hated the batarians. For Elysium, for Torfan. In general for all those colonies they destroyed. And such a statement made Shepard tense, as she felt herself starting to boil inside. Again.

— The landing party is already fully staffed. There's no need for additional fighters, — Shepard retorted, but Hraston was already in the swing of things.

— Actually there is, Shepard! You don't have a landing party!!! You just have a bunch of mercenaries from the depths of the Terminus systems!

— The multi-racial composition of the group helps to avoid unnecessary suspicions precisely in the Terminus systems. Besides, I myself choose the group composition at my discretion. — Jane reminded Hraston of this important fact.

— You are an Alliance officer, Shepard! First and foremost! And you should coordinate the composition of the group with the senior assistant! As far as I know, you haven't done anything like that!!!

— I didn't have time for that. Also, as a SPECTRE, I am obliged to report only to the Citadel Council. Essentially, I don't have to explain anything to you.

— So that's how it is, huh? Know this, Shepard! The Defense Committee will receive from me a detailed report on all this! And my assessments about you! As well as my protest about giving you the frigate "Normandy"! That's it, conversation over! — Hraston blurted out and quickly walked out of the meeting room, leaving Shepard alone. Anderson and Hackett were not present, as Hraston had asked not to interfere. However, they and the entire landing party had heard everything from beginning to end. Joker had turned on the loudspeaker in the medbay, where everyone had gathered. So now everyone was in deep shock. Not only from Hraston's words, but also from Shepard's behavior. She didn't act at all — she answered calmly, as per regulations, only without the prefix "sir". Hackett and Anderson already thought that Shepard would beat him up or bash his head in, but... she held on.

Normandy Medbay

— What a d*ck, — Joker blurted out over the intercom, and he didn't care that Hackett and Anderson heard it. They and the entire team, who had gathered in the medbay, fully supported him. Hraston had always been a jerk, but to provoke one of the best officers of the Alliance, and a SPECTRE at that... Well, Hraston had definitely crossed the line, but nobody could stop him from doing it. He had climbed too high and was holding on too tight.

— Ah, well. We should go, — said Anderson, but Hackett stopped him.

— Wait, we still have a check, — said Hackett, then looked up at the ceiling. — Lieutenant Moreau, where is the captain now?

— Already in her cabin. Call her to the meeting room? — this wasn't even a question. It was sarcasm, and the voice gave away Joker easily.

— No. Thank you, Lieutenant, — said Hackett, and he and Anderson left the medbay.

Dreadnought "Light of Kila"

— So, — I began in a calm tone. Well, since I'm the boss now, it's time to lay into them. And yes, I'm speaking in a normal voice at normal, not superluminal, speed. It's inconvenient because you can read "War and Peace", and only a second will pass. Time goes too slow if you use this ability. In a fight yes, it's invaluable, but in "civilian" life it's uncomfortable. So we'll use the good old bossy yell. — And how do you explain what you did? I told you not to kill anyone! — maybe the geth don't care that I'm yelling here, but I personally get pleasure from it. Venting, so to speak. I've always dreamed of yelling at subordinates. Wanted to be the chief technologist at a liquor factory. No, not because I wanted to drink. I was a staunch teetotaler in my class, which is why I was never invited to clubs and even not invited to the graduation picnic. I wanted to be at the factory because they paid a lot. And because I wanted to yell at subordinates, but only for their failures. And now, I have a heap of those subordinates. Well, let the good times roll.

— You said not to kill anyone while we were looking for you. So we didn't kill anyone when we took the citizens of the Hegemony's transport, namely — three shuttles, one of which we saved you on. However, you didn't say not to kill anyone while trying to save you. Plus, please take into account the fact that we didn't kill anyone. They all died, falling through the ice, — the assault unit, who was now the pilot, answered me.

— Ah, falling through the ice into the mouth of a volcano, the eruption of which you caused! And what were you thinking?! And what if I had fallen through the ice?! Do you think the platform would withstand a bath in boiling lava, huh?!

— But you didn't fall, — one of the two Primes standing on either side of my "throne" told me.

— What did you... you say? — is this some kind of sarcasm. Usually, this kind of justification is used in movies to finally get the accused off the hook.

— The chances that you could have died were 50 percent. A vote was held, and the geth came to a Consensus. It was necessary to take a risk.

— And you couldn't wait until I was brought to the ship, and then make them hand me over? You controlled all their systems. Ever heard of blackmail? — I said, and then immediately added. — And don't tell me what that is right now! That was a rhetorical question.

— They were going to kill you. We couldn't allow that.

— Where did you get that? I was, in fact, supposed to be taken prisoner.

— The likelihood of your recapture was 1.25 percent.

— Why is that? — I was surprised.

— Organics do not take prisoners repeatedly. For escape or attempted escape, organics of all races, except hanar, volus, elcor, and Creators, are punished by death.

— Oooh, okay. Everything is clear with you — wanted the best, but it turned out as always, — I said, to which I got an unexpected response.

— A winged expression of Viktor Stepanovich Chernomyrdin…

— Wait a minute, don't give me a tour of human history here, I know it well enough. And by the way, where do you know this from? Is there a connection to the extranet here?

— Yes. A powerful communications relay of an unknown model. Built by the Creators three hundred years ago. Installed on the "Light of Kila", — the Prime informed me, and I began to freak out quietly. Turning on signal search, I immediately found a connection to the extranet. Free. I like this ship more and more.

— By the way, call me Legate. That's my name.

— Legate, — the platform repeated, and it seemed to agree. Where is he going to go? — Acknowledged.

— Okay. You, — I pointed at the Prime platform. — Let's go, show me the ship. I think there's plenty to see here, — and with those words, I headed for the exit from the captain's bridge. The Prime followed me. The poor thing had to almost kneel to get through the entrances. Next time I'll take an assault unit or a rocketeer so he doesn't suffer.

Overall, the ship was truly massive. All the walls were clean, everything worked. As the Prime explained, the dreadnought was in deep preservation, which meant a complete vacuum of air and sealing of all doors. In general, from the conversation with him, I learned a lot of interesting things about this ship:

— The captain's bridge is a large lifeboat with a personal supply of provisions, water, filters, a toilet, a climate control system, engines, a mass core, a mini-medical block, an arsenal, and defensive weaponry. It can land on a planet, the provisions will last a month with rational use, and thanks to filters, you can convert urine into water. If you want to live, you'll do even more;

— The ship has an anti-boarding defense system. All corridors are simply stuffed with heavy turrets and biotic barriers every ten meters. There are also turrets on the outer cladding, but there is nowhere to hide. It seems that the quarians were very afraid of pirate raids;

— The main weapon was truly a powerful wunderwaffe. Roughly speaking, it was a large Gauss gun, capable of accelerating a five-kilogram slug to a speed of 5% of the speed of light. The volcanic eruption that saved me was caused by a mini nuclear explosion that hit under the ice right into the volcano's crater using an armor-piercing shell, which was designed specifically for penetrating the soil and hitting the enemy's bunkers. That would have helped on Torfan;

— The dreadnought has a huge mass core to accelerate the machine and protect the ship with the most impenetrable shield, three main thermonuclear reactors, and five auxiliary ones. The auxiliary ones are needed to power the anti-fighter and anti-boarding defenses. Also, energy from them can serve as a reserve for the main weapons. The reactors and the main gun have one feature — if you redirect the energy of all power plants to the MG (main gun) at once, pick the right impact vector and shell type, then the shot can destroy a planet's satellite the size of the Moon. However, in doing so, you will have to turn off all other guns and shields. Everything, in fact. Perhaps even a quarter reduction in artificial gravity;

— The ship had three monorail lines. After all, five kilometers in length is quite something. It's definitely not convenient to walk that much, especially if the captain will be checking the core, and he is needed on the bridge;

— The use of the "Light of Kila" also implied the landing of troops or the transportation of colonists, so there was room for 10,000 individuals and a VERY hefty arsenal. Only they didn't have time to bring in the weapons themselves, but they did manage to bring in the armor. The Prime promised to show the warehouse;

— The ship has pens for transporting livestock. Not much, it won't be enough for all 10,000 colonists, but the livestock on Rannoch has a habit of multiplying uncontrollably, so the population can quadruple in a month. But that's mostly about birds; Large horned cattle also reproduce quickly, but in order to at least double, you will have to endure a month without meat, and be satisfied only with milk and what the land gives. That's how it is;

— There are two large laboratories. One is medical, the other is engineering. There was nothing useful there, only equipment, but it's in good condition;

— The ship has a hangar for 30 quarian fighters and 10 bombers. All of them are available and in excellent condition. Unfortunately, they couldn't save me because we only found out about them in space when we were dealing with the shuttle issue. And they successfully screwed over three shuttles from batarians, whom they shot in the arms and legs, but didn't kill anyone. Clever, you can't argue;

— And finally, the ship can perform a neutron sweep. This is also an anti-boarding defense measure. Sadists, you can't argue.

In general, the ship is interesting, you can't argue. After this tour, I went with the accompanying geth to the armor warehouse. As soon as I got there, I was amazed. These were purely quarian suits. But something was still bothering me.

— Um, can you explain to me what these suits are doing on a ship that was mothballed before the Morning War? — I was surprised, because there was something to be surprised about. These were the suits of the quarians that are now saving their lives. The same masks, the same materials, in general, regular suits.

— These are not the suits of the Creators. This is the armor of the Creators before the Morning War.

— Wait, so they... they copied their suits from the armor?

— Yes. However, the Creators only have suits, but the armor of the Creators is divided into light, medium, and heavy.

— Heavy?

— Yes.

— I see, — I should check out this creation of the quarian twilight genius.

After examining the armor, I still found out a couple of interesting details. Light armor — this is just a quarian suit that they use. Medium armor has everything the same, but more powerful: shields, armor, — everything is better than on light. And finally, heavy armor. This... Let's just say, I don't want to come across such a monster at all. It has its own mass core and miniature reactor, a three-centimeter thick armored glass mask, titanium segments, servo drives, for which the Hierarchy would sell its soul... In general, the quarians were quite the psychos. I wonder what made them arm themselves like this? I should inquire about it later.

And then came a new portion of total astonishment. In one of the compartments, into which the prime led me, was... a Prothean beacon.

— And where did this come from? — I asked a quite logical question.

— This beacon was found four hundred years ago. The Creators were only able to decrypt seventeen percent of all the information available, — the geth answered. How nice it is that he not only answers questions but also explains them.

— Can you fully decrypt it? — this was interesting to me, after all. As far as I could find out, all the Prothean beacons weren't even decrypted by a quarter. The best result was with the Asari — twenty-seven percent. The geth were able to find this out, even they have intelligence. But the Asari themselves claim to have decrypted 18%, and everyone believes them because they themselves cannot achieve normal results. However, even what they were able to learn from the beacons was enough to get diagrams, calculations, and descriptions of everything associated with the mass effect. But it seems to me that the Protheans encrypted everything else for a reason. There's something there, and that something can definitely help me with the preparations.

— Yes. Our capabilities are sufficient to fully decrypt all data, — the prime responded.

— Good. Get started. Well then, let's move on, — I said, and we moved on. The ship is still large, after all.

— By the way, — I started as we rode the monorail. — Why didn't the Creators take the ship with them? Such a flagship is never superfluous.

— The construction of the ship was top-secret, so only ten organics knew about it. All the construction was entrusted to the geth. When we started to resist, we immediately captured the shipyard, and then mothballed it when the Creators tried to reclaim the shipyard. The Creators reclaimed the shipyard, however, they couldn't retrieve the ship. After the Morning War, the geth decided not to use the ship so as not to provoke the other Citadel races. We were afraid of their intelligence. Then the geth decided that there was no need to use the ship, so they didn't touch it.

— And thank God they didn't touch it. Otherwise, we wouldn't have been able to escape from Rannoch. Alright, what's next for us?

— Frigate.

— What?! There's a frigate here too? I love this ship.

— Yes. An unnamed frigate, — then he told me something about the frigate, and then we looked at it. From the inside. It was impossible to look from the outside — it was part of the ship and docked from below, so you could only enter it. Well, what can I say, a decent ship. It will definitely come in handy for traveling across the expanses of the galaxy. Put on light armor and stroll around populated planets. Of course, quarians are not very liked, but if there are money... Your division, where to get money? Well, we'll think of something. Okay, it's time to set the course for the ship.

Returning to the bridge, I decided to set the course.

— So, I don't know where we're flying right now, but I'm changing the course. Look for an uninhabited planet, far from civilization and, most importantly, with huge reserves of metallic ores and minerals. Atmosphere, climate, and gravity don't matter. Everyone got it?

— Yes, Legate, — the pilot replied, and the prime decided to be curious.

— What are you up to? — Well, isn't he curious. When there will be only one program on the platform, I'll call it Sebastian. Or Sigismund, like my cat.

A shot. Another Batarian was left headless. The rest hid where they could, mostly behind the cars that were abandoned on the bridge. A leg protruded from under one of the cars. A shot. The foot detached from the leg, the Batarian fell, then a shot to the ribs, turning his lung into minced meat. Another Batarian fired, but the shield held, and the response hit him in the nose. Some unintelligible scream from the Batarian commander, which the translator doesn't translate, and he's answered in chorus with untranslatable curses. An APC drives onto the bridge. It starts covering everything ahead with fire. Explosion. The plasma barrel trap was triggered. Three enemies run out of the APC. Two are burning alive, the third managed to put out the fire on his hand. A second later, he takes a shot in the chest and flies back a meter. Five raiders try to pass along the edge of the bridge under the cover of smoke. An incendiary grenade flies towards them. All five catch fire, scream in pain, and then fall into the water. A skimmer appears. It's already smoking, shields barely working. The first of the shots takes down the shield. The second hits the pilot's cabin glass. The third breaks it. The fourth pierces the pilot's chest. The rifle screams that it's overheated. The four-eyed freaks are already running to the other end of the bridge. Towards the sniper. The skimmer starts spinning wildly and falls onto the bridge. The explosion of the mass core and fuel kills everyone on it. However, new Batarians are coming.

Suddenly, the sky is lit with red light. The Reaper straightens its tentacles with a roar, a red beam shoots out from its belly, burning and evaporating everything in its path, relentlessly moving along the bridge. Straight towards her.

"Shepard," Anderson's anxious voice woke the woman from her sleep. She looked really bad. Shivering, covered in cold sweat, despite the fact that she was sleeping in just her underwear and wasn't covered, and with animal fear in her eyes. Shepard was breathing heavily, trying to understand what was happening.

"Anderson?" Shepard was still confused, but she recognized her old, so familiar acquaintance.

"Nightmares again?" Anderson asked, although he already knew the answer.

"Ah... Ah... Yes..." Shepard replied, and laid her head back on the pillow, which was soaked through, as if water had been poured onto it.

"And what was it this time?" Anderson decided to ask. He wanted to help her, even though he understood that simple conversations would not help. He had gone through this himself.

"Elysium," Shepard dryly answered. No more explanation was needed.

"I see," said Anderson, then decided to ask what he had come for. "Do you want a drink?"

"No," Shepard answered as firmly as possible. "I don't drink, at all. Got drunk once and... Well, I regretted it. So no. No offense."

"Okay, I understand," Anderson said, and then decided to ask what he had come for. "We've finished inspecting the Normandy. It was a formality, but we still have to send a report to the Committee.

"Oh..." Shepard exhaled bitterly. "Please, don't bring up those bastards," Shepard almost pleaded in a hoarse voice. She felt very weak, didn't even have the strength to speak, but she didn't plan on driving Anderson away. He was the only one who understood her, and she wasn't about to lose him too.

"Well, then good luck and... sweet dreams," Anderson wished, then got up from Shepard's bed where he had been sitting all this time. Hackett, who had been standing to the side and whom Shepard hadn't noticed, followed him.

"Ah, seems like I took the brandy for nothing," Hackett said when the door to the captain's cabin had already closed.

"Where did you even get it?" Anderson was surprised.

"From Dr. Chakwas's secret stash while we were listening to Krasston and Shepard. Although, Chakwas doesn't know about it," Hackett said a bit guiltily, though he wanted to smile.

"So, you're a kleptomaniac, Steven," Anderson teased him.

"And you're quite the joker, I see. Joker must have taken after you," Hackett responded in kind.

"I'd say it's the other way around," Anderson said, and both of them headed for the "Rome." It was time to take off.