Hacking the ship's security system went off without a hitch – mainly because there was no one to interfere. The only living crew member, Miranda Lawson, was unconscious, her mind suppressed by the Force's influence, oblivious to the suspicious activity on the ship. As for inanimate obstacles, only EDI remained – the ship's AI, who acted more like a peculiar guide to hacking. She politely informed me which commands I shouldn't enter at her core terminal. And when I entered them anyway, EDI immediately advised me on what not to do next, lest I accidentally unlock the system. Ironically, it was her "resistance" that allowed me to completely free the ship from Cerberus's control.
Now the Starkiller-I belonged only to me! Well, or almost. In effect, control remained with EDI, but her actions were logical, calculated, and our goals aligned perfectly. For now, an AI uprising wasn't threatening me. At least, I hoped so. Although, of course, there can be no one-hundred-percent guarantee – in this universe, a catch awaits around every corner, especially in the darkest ones. And in space, it's always dark.
In any case, I decided to postpone my paranoid thoughts until later. I had more than enough to do: for example, helping EDI improve the security protocols. She didn't have a physical body, so she simply couldn't run around the ship disabling spy devices. I had to take on this task. And I spent about an hour clearing all the cabins of unpleasant surprises. I was particularly outraged by the miniature camera in the shower stall. Apparently, the head of Cerberus had some kind of morbid interest in my crew's personal lives. Or was he trying to reveal my face this way? Who knows.
Finishing the cleanup, I gave the order to fly to the Citadel, and I myself headed to the rest area, where Miranda lay unconscious. I sat down across from her, pondering how to win the Cerberus agent over to my side.
With a snap of my fingers, I brought her out of her sweet or not-so-sweet nightmares.
— How did you sleep? - I asked, trying to speak softly.
Miranda slowly sat up, her pupils darting nervously.
The woman was clearly on guard, which wasn't surprising. My mental abilities were no secret, but few knew how strong they were. Even C-Sec had only fragmentary data – far less than Saren knew. However, the head of Cerberus was surely aware of all my tricks from my mercenary days. In the end, it was control over information that had allowed him to keep his terrorist organization afloat for years. And this very information, he must have passed on to his agent.
— How did you knock me out? - she asked grimly, already guessing at the "biotic" interference.
— Biotics are harder to put to sleep than ordinary people, so I had to put in a little effort, - I replied, shrugging and crossing my arms. — While you were sleeping, I removed the limiters from the AI, got rid of the spy devices, and moved on to the main question: what to do with the Illusive Man's liaison? At first, I just wanted to throw the undesirable element into space, but then I decided to save that option as a last resort.
— Very... noble of you, - Miranda quipped. — And extremely irrational. The Illusive Man will interpret your actions as an act of aggression.
— Perhaps he will, - I smirked. — If he doesn't pay first for the cameras in the shower and the captain's cabin. After such disrespect, it was foolish to leave EDI under his control; who knows, maybe he'd order the power core to be blown? You can only expect trouble from people like that. But what can I expect from you?
Miranda turned away slightly, thinking over her answer.
— Understood. If it's a matter of trust, I can leave the ship at the nearest spaceport, - she offered.
— Don't be in a hurry to flee. From the Illusive Man's glowing recommendation, I gathered that you are one of his best agents, - I placed my hands on the table and leaned forward slightly. — And I have a weakness for talented subordinates, especially those loyal to me. So tell me, what is the price of your betrayal? What can I offer that Cerberus cannot grant? But I warn you: if you try to play a double game, I'll figure it out quickly. And then, the unreliable garbage will end up in space.
— Oh, recruitment? An expensive pleasure, - her voice turned playful, and a spark of excitement flashed in her eyes. Apparently, the realization of her own value inspired her to make ambitious demands.
— It all depends on your skills, - I replied calmly, getting to the point. — The Illusive Man was counting on EDI to keep the spy alive. If I had gotten rid of the extra eyes, I would have immediately lost the ability to control the ship. That's why he praised you in general terms, avoiding specifics. And that, as you understand, doesn't reflect well on our potential alliance.
— Alliance? - Miranda repeated the word with a slight smirk. — For my part, I can offer something more than just espionage skills. There aren't many experts in the galaxy who understand biotechnology, cybernetics, and genetic engineering better than I do. If you need to improve technology, create a new weapon, or modify living beings, I'll do it faster than any team of scientists.
This bold statement made me think. Perhaps she really could help with programming and creating PROXY – a complex task that requires not only an outstanding mind, but also the strictest secrecy.
Speaking of genetic engineering and advanced technologies...
A bacta tank from my galaxy is extremely necessary for our cause, especially if I decide to delve deeper into the dark side of the force. Creating bacta is not an easy process, and this project is only feasible for someone who possesses a truly outstanding mind and diverse skills.
— There's a lot of boasting in your words, - I noted. — I assume there are reasons for it.
She thought for a moment, as if deciding whether to reveal her trump cards.
— It's not easy to talk about, but... I'm not entirely human.
— I don't see any horns or a tail, - I joked, but immediately focused, scanning her with the Force. To my surprise, she wasn't lying. Her genome had been altered, and significantly. I intensified the scan, detecting more and more deviations from the norm. — You are stronger and more durable than ordinary humans, that's a fact. But your body's reproductive functions... either a mistake, or a deliberate limitation. Whoever improved your genetics clearly didn't want the "new humans" to reproduce without his knowledge.
— Is it that obvious? - the woman's voice trembled, but she quickly pulled herself together. — Are you reading my mind?
— With sufficient concentration, I can read intentions and separate truth from lies, - I replied, drumming my fingers on the tabletop. — Read minds in real time? Theoretically, it's possible, but I've practically never used it.
— I'll try to take your word for it, - Miranda slowly shook her head. — My father was obsessed with the idea of the human genome's supremacy. He wanted to create a genius – someone who would surpass all living beings in intelligence, physical strength, and endurance. He dreamed of a being with a phenomenal memory and a strategic mind. He tried to create a god. And he created me.
I wonder, is there a crown lying around on the ship by any chance?
You never know, maybe it fell off one of the crew members...
— From what I can offer immediately, - Miranda continued, tilting her head slightly. — Is Cerberus's structure, methods, and weak points. Of course, you could try to rip everything out of me by force, using your biotic abilities. But what would you get? Just raw, incoherent scraps of information. Only in my right mind can I not just reveal secrets, but also give you an analysis – how best to use my knowledge.
She steepled her fingers and continued more confidently:
— As you see, I'm speaking with you openly, hiding nothing. Anyone in your place would want to see me on their side in this war, especially one that threatens the entire galaxy. The Reapers... - Miranda sighed. — There is practically no information about them, even in Cerberus's secret archives. All that's known is that they destroyed the Protheans. That's exactly why they were nicknamed the Reapers. But what they look like, what they're capable of... we don't know that. The slightest delay with them guarantees defeat. I, however, think faster than ordinary people.
Her posture was impeccably straight, and her gaze was penetrating, as if she were trying to catch the slightest changes in my reaction and voice.
— It seems it's my turn now – what I can offer a genius-squared in exchange for loyalty... - I began, but she interrupted me.
— Not exactly, - she raised her hand. — Before you start "bribing," I want to tell you something: I ran away from my father – a very powerful man, who tried to control and use me. And not alone; with my sister.
For a moment, I sank into a state of deep meditation, allowing the dark side of the force to fill my consciousness. I can't be called a great negotiator, ruler, or manipulator. In terms of my skills, I'm closer to Darth Vader than to Darth Sidious. All my life, I was taught to kill, and nothing else. After reincarnation, I just got used to the new reality, regained my mastery, and perfected it. Again, missing out on social skills.
So I needed a crutch.
I slowly open my eyes and feel a burning flame spread through my body. Breathing became heavier, thoughts writhed, as if they were torn from my consciousness and thrown onto a fire. Yes, surrendering everything to the Dark Side is not the best idea. It whispered radical solutions: find Miranda's sister, use her as leverage, cut off all paths of retreat and leave only one – me.
But I restrained the impulse.
Anger and the thirst for subjugation are powerful tools, but right now, they only did harm.
— Good, - I drew out the word, trying to sound calm, although everything inside was boiling. — Your self-promotion is impressive.
I settled more comfortably in the chair, relaxing, but not taking my eyes off Miranda.
— I need help creating a robot with artificial intelligence. In return, I will accuse your father of illegal experiments on humans. His life will turn into hell, and will end in a prison with special containment conditions. For a year or two, he will beg for death before he receives it. As a Spectre with almost unlimited power, I can arrange this as soon as the "PROXY" project is completed.
I felt my lips stretch into a hideous smirk under my helmet.
— Your sister, whose name you're hiding for now, - I continued, choosing my words carefully. — Will receive safety, a new identity, a luxurious life. I can even check her surroundings for malicious intent. If I find any pests, I'll crush them like insects or hand them over to you for execution. It all depends on your desire. And on your strategic talents in our battles. The better you do, the more your little sister gets.
Now we move on to the mutually beneficial offer, where I get more.
— Your body is imperfect; there are limitations that ordinary people don't have, - I hinted, touching on the subject of her reproductive functions. — I know the blueprints for a bacta tank and a way to simulate bacta. A special healing substance accelerates the regeneration of muscles, nerves, tissues. It can even put a half-dead person back on their feet in a week, returning them to perfect condition. But creating bacta will require a lot of work with genes and my personal involvement. If we combine our efforts, there's a chance to complete the project in less than a month. Then you can get rid of your defects, and I, of mine, if they appear.
Here I was being cunning. The defects were already there, and quite a few.
— And this is just one of the technologies I possess, - I told her. — In a week, you'll receive the first portion of knowledge. Consider it a trial, to assess the prospects. And after that? After that, it's all up to you. If there are results, there will be new knowledge. If you are loyal, I will share everything I have. Gradually, step by step.
— Services for services, - Miranda smirked, pondering my words. — And what about freedom? I'm not thrilled about exchanging one set of restrictions for another.
— I promise complete control over all projects that strengthen the galaxy: freedom from interference from Cerberus, the Citadel, from anyone who dares to stand in your way. If anyone tries to control you, I'll deal with it. Once and for all. Your enemies will become my enemies, if you prove your worth.
I slowly wave my hand.
— The second facet of freedom is creativity, - hints of some perverted inspiration sounded in my tone. — You'll be able to work outside all frameworks: any resources, any experiments – all at your disposal. No ethics. No rules. No laws.
I felt the Dark Side pressing on my consciousness more and more strongly.
— Almost everything suits me, - Miranda sighed. — But first of all, I want to know: what is your goal?
The question was posed as a challenge, as if everything depended on my answer.
Although, in reality, she had already agreed. She just wanted to understand who she was dealing with.
— My goal? - I smirked. — To survive. And to make sure the galaxy survives the Reapers. Everything else is just a means to build a beachhead for new opportunities. The Citadel Council has shown its vulnerability and inability to govern the galaxy. One threat – and before my intervention, they had already managed to dig their own graves, avoiding the truth for the sake of an illusion of stability. The galaxy needs change. And I plan to provide it, using the glory of being the victor over the Reapers. After all, in any world, in any society... the one who is stronger and ready to act in the hour of need, becomes the leader. So it's up to you: stay in the shadows, as the Illusive Man does, or stand proudly in the rays of glory, becoming a victor with a solid share of power – one that defines both freedom and security. For you and everyone you care about.
— Isn't it dangerous to speak so openly about this with someone who hasn't given their consent yet? - Miranda asked with a slight mockery.
— Life is either a daring adventure or nothing, - I spread my hands.
— Or a daring adventure leading to nothing, - she supplemented. — I won't sever my ties with Cerberus, but I promise one thing: the Illusive Man will only receive false or useless information from me. At least, until I can be sure that all your promises aren't just empty words.
— Reasonable, - I concluded, after which I began to cleanse my mind of the Dark Side's influence.
As soon as I resorted to it, the desire immediately arose to see all sentient races on their knees. But that's not for me. Power limits, and I'm used to being free. Although, alas, I still can't fly to the galaxy far, far away just on a "it's convenient."
My goal requires power, which means I will obtain it, at any cost.
With a heavy sigh, I headed to the captain's bridge, where I waited for our arrival at the Citadel. There, I immediately began to pay my dues to the Illusive Man. I recalled the scouts from Aite; with a heavy heart, I paid the bills for the ship's creation. And the hardest part – I put a spoke in the Alliance's wheel so they wouldn't attack Cerberus bases while the threat from deep space was not eliminated. At least, as long as Cerberus doesn't go against the galaxy's interests.
And it has only one goal – to win the war.
We took the first step as soon as my shattered-to-pieces team returned from their assignments, and the Citadel prepared the fleet for the confrontation. A serious battle was brewing, as well as the first acquaintance with the enemy's forces...
I had never fought the Reapers, but I knew one thing for sure: everything cosmic is subject to death from the lightsaber of the one they call the Star Killer. But that's not for sure.
— Star, - Saren addressed me curtly, having inspected our new ship. — Sovereign. The geth fleet. And our ship without energy shields. Does nothing bother you?
— Should it? - I asked in surprise.
— Well, - Samara cut in, her face remained impassive, but fatigue was visible in her eyes. She and Benezia had to conduct negotiations with corporate representatives – a real bureaucratic hell. — If our ship has no energy shields, then Sovereign is clearly too much.
— And the geth fleet, - Tali'Zorah added uncertainly, which was strange. She should have been brimming with confidence after the successful negotiations with the quarian admirals.
— We have powerful weaponry, - Liara fiddled with the holographic interface. — And little space for ammunition. This is the first ship in my memory where you need to carefully conserve all types of ammo.
— If you want, I can calibrate the guns. We can get at least a fifteen percent reduction in the chance of missing, - Garrus offered.
— Everything is fine, - Miranda intervened. — The ship has the latest targeting systems installed. Misses are almost impossible.
— While misses against us should be guaranteed! - Saren flared up. — I've been on a hundred suicide missions. But to go into a slaughterhouse without shields and hope that if you don't have armor, you can dodge artillery fire... This is savagery. Worse than barbarism!
— Maybe we should switch ships to the Normandy? - Shepard suggested, drawing attention to herself. — Anderson, I'm sure, wouldn't mind. Good weaponry, powerful shields, and the best pilot in the galaxy. Joker's skills are legendary, and among us, as I see it, there are no pilots.
— Good weaponry? - Garrus repeated. — I can calibrate that, too.
— I will pilot the Starkiller-I, - I spoke up, surprising everyone, including Miranda. Apparently, she thought I would entrust the piloting to EDI – the artificial intelligence. But it's a known fact: no one pilots starships better than Force-users. — We will be the vanguard, breaking through the geth ranks straight to Sovereign. Whatever's left behind – let the Citadel ships finish them off.
— Shepard, - Samara addressed her. — Is there a spare seat on the Normandy?
— Everything will be fine, - I assured everyone. — We'll break through, somehow.
— Without shields. In the aggressive vanguard, - Saren savored the words bitterly, as if tasting something sour. — Human female, - he then turned to Shepard. — Are there two spare seats?
Crossing my arms in displeasure, I assessed the crew's team spirit.
I feel complete combat readiness, even without the help of the Force!
Unfortunately, only the combat readiness to flee to another ship...