The briefing room was quiet, save for the low hum of the Normandy's systems and the occasional shuffle of boots as Shepard's squad filed in. Garrus leaned against the wall with his usual arms-crossed posture, Jack slouched with a glare, and Miranda was already scrolling something on her omni-tool like she had better things to do. Joker piped in over the comms from the cockpit, because of course he refused to leave his chair.
Shepard stood at the center console, arms braced on either side, and pulled up a holo of the Bahak system.
"Alright. Here's the deal. We've been handed a new objective. An Alliance scientist—Dr. Amanda Kenson—claims she has evidence of imminent Reaper activity. The Illusive Man wants us to bring her in and secure her data before the Alliance, or anyone else, makes her disappear."
Jack gave a scoff. "Great. Another scientist. Please tell me she doesn't want us to 'study' the monsters tearing up the galaxy."
"She's an operative," Shepard corrected, "embedded in the Bahak system. Which means the Alliance probably knows she's there, and may have already sent someone to grab her. That complicates things."
Miranda set her omni-tool down, expression sharp. "Complicated doesn't begin to cover it. Thessia is in freefall. Omega's locked down. And we're stuck in neutral because the Empire's blockade won't even let us near the core. Our 'suicide mission' against the Collectors is sitting on indefinite pause."
Joker's voice cut in, "Not that all of us are complaining."
Garrus smirked faintly, mandibles twitching. "On the bright side, the Collectors are as stuck as we are. That Relay's dead. They can't leave, we can't get in. It's like a stalemate. And I have to admit… not dying yet does wonders for morale."
A few chuckles went around the room. Even Shepard cracked a wry smile. "Yeah. I'll take 'not dying' for now."
Joker's voice cut in one more, dripping sarcasm. "So our galaxy-saving plan is basically: sit tight, let the mystery space-Empire keep the boogeymen penned in, and hope they don't decide to squish us too while they're at it? Real comforting, Commander."
"Not like we've got much of a choice," Shepard muttered, ignoring the sting of truth in Joker's words.
Tali, sitting near the back, shifted uneasily. "I still don't understand how they can cut off the entire Terminus so quickly. Droids or not, the scale of their fleet—it's terrifying. The Migrant Fleet wouldn't last seconds against that kind of firepower."
"That's the point," Zaeed grunted, rubbing his scarred jaw. "They make damn sure no one thinks about fighting back. Break one station, crush a few fleets, and suddenly the rest of the galaxy falls in line. Bloody efficient, I'll give 'em that."
"Efficient," Mordin added from his datapad, "but also dangerous. Logistical capacity immense. Deployment speed concerning. Yet… possible ally? If Collectors and Reapers mutual threat. Pragmatically beneficial to cooperate. Yet cultural signs show extremist views. Must evaluate cost-benefit."
Shepard raised a hand before the debate spun off entirely. "Focus, people. Whatever's going on in the Terminus and Thessia, our job right now is Bahak. We extract Kenson, we secure her data, and we bring it back. Simple."
"Simple," Jack repeated with a sneer. "That's what you said before we got turned into bug food in Collector traps. Twice."
"Point taken," Shepard said dryly. "But this time, we're not storming a Reaper fortress. Just babysitting an Alliance spook."
The sarcasm and back-and-forth eased some of the tension, and slowly, the squad began dispersing, heading back to their routines. Garrus gave her a small nod before heading for the elevator, and Tali murmured something about double-checking the Normandy's drive core. Jack muttered about needing a drink.
When the room finally cleared, Shepard lingered. The holo of the Bahak system flickered in front of her, but her thoughts were elsewhere. The Collectors. The suicide mission. The Omega blockade. Every path she needed was cut off… except one.
Her eyes narrowed, lips tugging into a faint, dangerous smirk. Maybe they didn't need to do it themselves. Maybe they didn't have to be the ones to walk into hell. There was a bigger gun in town now—an Empire that obliterated stations like they were paper toys. What if… just maybe… she could convince them to take on the Collectors for her?
The smirk lingered as she shut off the map's holo projection. Tomorrow's problem, maybe. But as the consequences of her last interaction with the Empire came to the forefront of her mind it faltered as she shook her head.
=====================
The chamber was dim, the tactical holo-map at the center bathing the assembled Knights in pale starlight.
Sors Bandeam stood at the head of the table, hands clasped behind his back as the message replayed one final time. Commander Shepard's voice, clipped and professional, relaying what she believed to be the truth: that the "dead system" of the galactic core was nothing of the sort, but the staging ground of the Collectors.
When the echo faded, silence reigned for several breaths.
It was Laris Varran who broke it, his tone sharp and precise, like a scalpel dissecting the words.
"Such intelligence would not be handed over lightly. No commander worth their post delivers the location of an enemy stronghold freely, unless… circumstances force their hand. Either she is desperate, or she has no other avenue of recourse. The likelihood of deception is low, but the possibility remains."
Leia's response came fast, the spark in her golden eyes barely contained.
"Or she simply realized the Empire is her only chance. Which means we have leverage. If what she says is true, we have the chance to strike at the Reapers before they move. A decisive blow. We cannot waste this."
Alan Spacer—silent as ever—remained statuesque at the far side of the table, helmeted head tilted just slightly toward the holomap. He said nothing.
Sors raised a gauntleted hand, calming the exchange. His tone carried no heat, only calculation.
"The Commander can be careless. Her record is enough sign of that, but she is no idiot. Yet based on the personality matrix Red Queen has constructed, she would have, at the very least requested to join us in this venture. But… we will not act blindly."
He turned toward the central spire. "Red Queen, I believe we still have a back door into their system?"
The hologram flickered, the crimson-tinged projection of the AI-Force amalgamation shimmering into focus.
"The core of Commander Shepard's ship is compromised. As per your request I left one to be found by the AI while the other has yet to show signs of being compromised."
"Retrieve all information from the ship. Prioritize by file rank and date. I don't want to know when she got this information, I want to know what other piece of information made her act on it."
A pause. The Red Queen's voice, cultured and unhurried, carried the faintest note of warning.
"Intrusion on such a scale will be detected. Certain systems that are being manually monitored and several individuals that harbor distrust toward the ship's AI will detect the intrusion. Additionally, the target ship is ill equipped to transfer the specified amount of information across the required distance. Multiple public Council rate buoys will have to be used to carry the transfer. High risk of interception and a minimum error rate of 38% is expected. I would advise on another course of action."
The chamber remained dim, the glow of the galaxy-map shimmering against the armored visors of the Knights.
Red Queen's voice faded, her last warning still hanging in the air. Sors Bandeam tapped his gauntleted fingers lightly against the table's edge, the sound sharp in the silence. He let the stillness breathe for a moment longer, his mind threading through probabilities, before he finally spoke.
"We attack the Core. It was always an objective. So far, our movements have had solid reasons behind them, though the core could display our intentions too clearly and jumpstart this war... however the good Commander has delivered a valid reason to our doorstep and not taking it would be a damn shame." His eyes flicked between the three knights, "Nevertheless, it is a given that we know less than our contractor in this case... and that cannot stand. One of us must shadow Shepard. She has a way of stumbling into the secrets of this galaxy if the past is any indication."
A beat passed before Leia stepped forward. "I'll go."
Sors turned his head slightly, visor reflecting the starlight, watching her closely. Leia folded her arms, almost pouting as she shrugged. "What? I've had my fill of fighting brainless droids. That redhead commander says these Collectors are basically the same thing—biological husks."
The edge in her tone was obvious. Subtlety had never been Leia's talent.
Sors allowed himself the barest sigh, shaking his head slowly. 'Doesn't that inadvertently mean you want to fight Shepard and her crew?' In truth, the thought of unleashing her volatile spirit deep in Hegemony space made his stomach twist. She was powerful—brilliant even—but far too headstrong, too quick to ignite when the situation demanded patience. A loose cannon had no place trailing Shepard... hell, she might just tear their ship out of the sky.
Better to keep her close, where her outbursts could be directed and managed.
His gaze shifted. Alan Spacer hadn't moved, still as a carved statue of dark alloy, but the faint tilt of his helmet told Sors all he needed. He had read the cue before Sors even spoke.
"Spacer will follow Shepard," Sors declared, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. Then, with deliberate weight, he turned back to Leia. "You're staying with us."
Leia's nostrils flared, the golden hue in her eyes flickering briefly before she pulled it back. A sulk, a defiant downturn of her lips, but no outburst. Not this time. She looked away, jaw set.
Sors nodded once, satisfied, and returned his attention to the map. His voice was level, precise. "The Core is our next move. Varran, retrieve as many samples as possible, but be sure to keep it isolated and sealed off. Meanwhile…" His gloved hand gestured toward the distant signal of the Normandy, "Spacer will shadow Shepard's trail and retrieve anything he deems worth our while, or even take any actions he deems suitable."
Alan Spacer inclined his head in approval.
Laris Varran, ever methodical, folded his arms. "And regarding our reinforcements? The year is almost over."
The question hung in the air like a blade. All of them knew that while the Expedition Fleet had proven unstoppable so far, they were isolated—fighting on the far side of a foreign galaxy, tethered to the strength of their supply lines and logistics. Even a perfect machine eventually wore thin, even with their increasing "appropriation" of resources during the year. And while the Sun Razer granted them a steady energy supply, it was no star forge. While many of their supplies could be obtained locally, new ships weren't one of them.
Sors Bandeam stood at the head of the display, hands clasped behind his back. His expression was neutral, carved stone beneath the glow of the holo. He let the question breathe a moment longer before answering, his tone steady and commanding.
"The exact details remain blurred," he began, "especially with the preparations being made for the Second Expedition Fleet. But make no mistake—our reinforcements will bring us to a minimum of 10,000 active warships, and this expansion escalates not only in scale but also in quality. We are first in line to expect two experimental flagship vessels, the first of their kind, mostly thanks to a lack of suitable 'testing environments' back on Empire territory."
A moment of silence passed as the Knights exchanged looks with one another.
"The eggheads-" Leia began.
"The eggheads came up with some bigger weapons of terror, yes..." Sors responded calmly.
A.N: Hope you njoyed :)