Once inside the cabin, Shepard caught the permissive nod and locked the door.
Anderson used his desk omni-tool to power up the wall screens.
Shepard brought up the necessary data.
"In the CIC I couldn't ask you a lot, Captain," Anderson said. "But I understood clearly you already have a plan. One that includes more than just stealth and hopping from planet to planet—the part you discussed with Pressly. I'm guessing you wanted to run a few full-scale drills and alerts, today and tomorrow."
"You're right, Commander," Shepard said. "I do have a plan that involves a real fight with that ship. Permission to speak plainly, sir?"
"Only that way. No other way," Anderson said. "If we're risking the ship and crew, using live weapons, then we should know exactly what, how, and when."
"Based on data from the same observation, comm, and control posts that produced the scanning data you saw for the ship heading to Eden Prime, I was able to determine that the ship has a powerful energy source. I'm sure it's extremely powerful compared to the best currently known in the galaxy. It's what allows this super-dreadnought not only to be absolutely invulnerable even to a coordinated attack by several of our dreadnoughts in space. But as you've already seen, I don't share the opinion that the ship will act from orbit over Eden Prime. And for certain reasons, I'm sure it's more vulnerable on the surface. And it will land—I have no doubt of it."
"And what are your reasons?" Anderson asked, interested.
"Sending a ship like that to an agricultural world just to shoot at the surface from orbit is unlikely—though I won't deny it's possible. I don't understand why this super-dreadnought is traveling exclusively through our zone of responsibility. I don't understand why it's aimed with such precision specifically at Eden Prime. Ships of that class don't usually travel empty—and certainly not alone. They travel with heavy escort, in formation. So this giant carries everything it needs not around itself, but inside itself. And among those necessities, I'd prioritize landing forces. The command of a ship like that likely understands that burning fields, destroying farming settlements and entire cities with one ship—however enormous and powerful—is an exotic, frankly reckless endeavor. Which means: this monster's arrival at Eden Prime has other goals. Far more important than starting massive fires." Shepard switched the screens to show information on Prothean beacons. "I already told you, Commander, that I know the real reason our ship is being used in the Eden Prime area. A Prothean beacon."
"You're right, Shepard." Anderson nodded. "Alliance leadership decided that the Prothean beacon found by humans on Eden Prime would be transferred to the Citadel. For joint research of the artifact left by a species that went extinct fifty thousand years ago."
"Should I understand this goodwill gesture by the Alliance as an attempt to raise humanity's political standing among the Citadel races?" Shepard asked.
"That, too, unfortunately," Anderson said. "As an Alliance Navy officer, I don't like hiding this from the ship's crew. But if they know, it won't make them calmer. Because our ship has the latest stealth system, which keeps us undetectable even to optical tracking sensors, Alliance command tasked us with extracting the beacon and delivering it to the Citadel at speed. At least, everyone giving me guidance or orders kept pointing to our stealth system. I'm sure their superiors ordered them to speak that way. Superiors who may never have served in the military. Not for a single day. And so they… don't understand much. And they don't know." Anderson fell silent for several seconds. "The archaeological team is already waiting for us. According to the latest telemetry, they've fully excavated the beacon. Intact, thankfully. If humans are even capable of understanding what state could be considered 'intact' for it."
"When we uncovered the Prothean outpost on Mars, Commander," Shepard said, "we found something like a beacon there too. In any case, the information we received from that Prothean outpost let us find and activate the Charon Relay and reach Arcturus. Does this mean we Earthborn are counting on getting a share of the information from an intact beacon by working in cooperation with the Council's major races?"
"As an ordinary person, Shepard, I wouldn't count on any share," Anderson replied. "But as an Alliance officer and frigate captain, I'm obligated to follow a higher level of interest than personal preference. At least, I know nothing yet about whether any other beacons like this have been found elsewhere in the galaxy. There are, of course, reports of varying reliability, but… Our Mars beacon is more than a beacon. It's not a simple transmitter and receiver. It's an information repository. We humans spent several calendar years reading a few pages of some text, using that information to find the Charon Relay, activating it, and reaching Arcturus. And now, quite recently, the digs on Eden Prime turn up an entire intact beacon. Exactly what it likely should be. Unactivated, too. Alliance leadership circles have different scenarios for what comes next," the ship's captain added. "I understand that this beacon would be very useful to us Earthborn—to humans. But unfortunately, we're no longer alone in the universe. And we're obligated to learn interstellar diplomacy."
"As I understand it, Commander," Shepard said, "for the Citadel Council, a beacon discovered in Earth's zone of responsibility is undesirable—unless, of course, the beacon is moved to the Citadel and therefore handed over to the Council."
"Yes, Shepard." Anderson nodded. "We're too young a race for the Citadel." He glanced at the omni-tool screens. "Asari—three thousand years of spaceflight. Turians—one thousand years. Salarians—two thousand years of piloted long-range flights through explored and unexplored parts of the galaxy. Naturally, giving us humans the chance to use without sharing the information that is beyond any doubt contained in that beacon is something they—all together or individually—won't want. In any case. No matter how neighborly relations between us and the Council races might seem now. And in the recent past…"
"Then, Commander, I'll ask you directly." Shepard straightened, but did not go to attention, nor shift into the posture best suited for the swift activation of the "Wire" state. "Does the Council know about this ship?" His gaze flicked to the screen where a nearly two-kilometer shrimp-craft crept toward Eden Prime, hidden in a six-kilometer "cocoon" of space dust.
"They're silent about it, Captain Shepard," Anderson answered. "I think either they're reliably hiding something, or they don't know how to explain 'it,' or—they're afraid. Because even the Destiny Ascension against a super-dreadnought like that is a cutter."
"That's not what I mean, Commander." Shepard didn't look at his interlocutor. "I mean what role you personally played in the fact that this ship is now prowling through our zones of responsibility and holding course for the jewel of Earth's colonial agricultural infrastructure."
"You learned that, too." Anderson noted without emotion. "Fine. Since it's part of our work now, I'll tell you." He settled deeper into his chair. "To tell the truth, it was unpleasant enough watching you peel open what I would have preferred to keep sealed as tightly as possible. At least until my own biological death." The captain fell silent for a few seconds. "I know this ship, Shepard. Its name is Sovereign—less often it's called Nazara. It first became known as an artifact discovered by the scientist Dr. Shu Qian. For certain reasons, that doctor became obsessed while working with the artifact-ship. The work was done at a secret Alliance base on the planet Sidon. A large planet with a thin atmosphere. A domed base was built there, and that's where the research took place. Officially—research into artificial intelligence."
"Shu Qian? The galaxy's leading specialist on AI?" Shepard asked, interested. "Or at least the one considered leading?" he уточнил.
"Yes, Shepard," Anderson confirmed. "That project on Sidon was very dangerous for the Alliance. Back then, too many humans were convinced that an artificial intelligence could enslave all of humanity—and then all other sentient organic races—if we didn't learn to control and limit it and manage its development effectively." Anderson paused. "I wouldn't say it like that. But I had to intervene in that project when Shu Qian fell under the influence of that ship."
"Mental influence? Soft reprogramming? Indoctrination?" Shepard asked.
"If you already know what stands behind those terms," Anderson said, "there's not much I can add. Yes—Dr. Shu Qian fell under the influence of that monster. It turned out the ship has an effective technology for influencing the mind and therefore behavior. Put simply… it can enslave them. And control them. That ship was found near space controlled at the time by the geth. Kali Sanders worked alongside Shu Qian. Officially she was technical staff. Unofficially… who knows, who knows."
Anderson paused for a few seconds before continuing.
Shepard made a note in his memory.
"Noticing Shu Qian's increasingly erratic behavior," Anderson continued, "she tried to report that 'nonstandard behavior' to the Alliance. Taking data on the then-top-secret research, Kali fled to Elysium. Everyone there at the time was obsessed with security, and Kali decided she'd be protected there, too. By the time Sanders was already on Elysium, the Sidon base was attacked by the Blue Suns. You understand, Shepard, that Sanders—who ran shortly before the attack—became one of the main suspects in organizing it. Even the fact that the Blue Suns themselves wanted to capture Kali didn't give official law enforcement grounds to clear her."
Now Anderson spoke in jagged fragments, pausing often, sipping water in small swallows from a large glass.
"There was one more figure there. Dr. Qian. He took Kali, expecting she would help him in his research. I had been advanced to the level of a Spectre candidate then. My handler was assigned as Spectre Saren Arterius. It was me, under an assumed name, who got Kali out of Elysium. And it was me—together with Saren—who had to assault a zero element refinery. Essentially a mining and processing complex. And you, Shepard, I'm sure know how huge they are, and how hard it is to take them with small units."
Anderson fell silent for several seconds, gathering strength and thoughts.
"That's when Saren showed his true colors… in full. I refused to blow the plant, because there were still workers in the shops and on the grounds. And Saren… he not only blew it. He framed me, reporting—and, I think, proving to the Citadel Council in his own way—that it happened because of me. Kali… she was there. Qian had her there."
Anderson took another sip from the glass.
"A hostage, a prisoner—I don't know what he considered her. But he held her tight. After that, when I lost my Spectre candidacy, Kali and I met only a few times. And each time I felt she was drifting away. She transferred to the academy named for her father, Admiral Grissom. Worked there as a consultant."
Anderson drank again.
"It's complicated. I thought I'd never face that monster again, Shepard." He raised his eyes to the screen where the silhouette of the ship-monster glowed. "And I… I hate to say it, but Kali and Saren… they're the same age. I don't know why. But it's неприятно."
Silence fell in the cabin. Shepard considered what Anderson had said. The ship's captain continued to sip water in small swallows from the large glass.
"John. Go. Work the crew and the ship. I need to be alone. Decide what to do next," Anderson said after more than half an hour. "No matter what, we'll have to fight. And if we can—we'll win."
Shepard rose in silence, nodded to the frigate captain, and left, pulling the cabin door shut behind him. Lieutenant Alenko was already hurrying toward him.
"Captain, sir. Permission to report?" The officer stopped two steps from Shepard and snapped to attention.
"Report, Lieutenant." Shepard turned to Kaidan.
"Corporal Jenkins has completed training," Alenko said crisply. "Five military police officers partially completed their training with him. Orders, sir?"
"Continue training." Shepard internally returned to the "Wire" setting. "Order everyone training to put on full combat suits and armor. Also—take real weapons, unloaded. Continue training only in suits, armor, and with weapons," the captain clarified, seeing the surprise on the lieutenant's face. "After training, let everyone rest and eat lunch. I order you to draw up a schedule of twenty-four-hour combat duty shifts for our quick reaction team. From the landing team roster—three to five people. While on duty, every member of the team is to be in armor, in sealed suits, helmets on, and carrying live weapons. Anything unclear, Lieutenant?"
"Apologies, sir," Alenko answered. "Maybe it's not that important right now, but I don't feel any migraine at all. Before, around this time before lunch, it practically devoured me."
"Happy for you, Lieutenant." The faintest hint of a smile touched Shepard's lips. "I assume that, rid of migraines, you can now dedicate nearly the whole day to working with the crew. And especially with the landing team. Any other questions?"
"No, sir. Permission to go?" Alenko straightened even more, saluted.
"Go, Lieutenant." Shepard returned the salute and headed unhurriedly toward the cockpit.
Unlike many members of the crew, Jeff Moreau—nicknamed "Joker"—had taken the danger coming from the landing team commander more seriously.
So the moment John Shepard touched the VI lock hologram on the cockpit hatch, Moreau was already facing the entrance—doing his best not to show how uncomfortable it was.
"Good day, sir!" Moreau greeted Shepard as he entered, snapping a proper salute.
"Good day, Lieutenant." Shepard returned it crisply. "Status report."
"On the ship or on course?" Moreau couldn't resist a jab—and too late, to his regret, realized he shouldn't have.
"Lieu-te-nant?!" Shepard's voice clearly began to boil. "I have a destroyer pilot among the MPs. Five years of practical experience. Combat experience. Or do you still think you can't be held accountable for stealing a starship?" Shepard was turning into that same figure that had scared Corporal Jenkins half to death.