The Collectors and the Protheans
“Yes, Commander.
If you’ll allow it, about that—in your cabin,” said Shepard.
“Let’s go,” Anderson said curtly.
Entering the cabin, Shepard waited for Anderson, who had followed him in, to close the door and activate the lock signal on the external interface.
Without sitting down, Shepard called up several diagrams, graphs, and illustrated tables on the wall screens.
“Do you believe,” Anderson asked, having familiarized himself with the presented information, “that heavy fighting took place here with these…
‘squids’ and their accomplices?”
“Commander,” Shepard said quietly and calmly.
“The planet is literally littered with remnants of infrastructure whose age far exceeds the sixty to seventy thousand years familiar to Terrans.
This means that developed settlements of the most powerful race of the previous cycle existed here.
An Imperial race.
A titular race.
Known as the Protheans.” He clarified.
“The Beacon is far less important, Captain, than what I was able to sense.
To feel, to be precise.
Strange as it may sound, there are still unexcavated, most valuable and complex monuments of Prothean culture here on the planet.
While we were flying to that ‘squid,’ I familiarized myself with the map of official excavations.
In my opinion, the locations chosen for them are far from always optimal.
This is indicated by the many excavation pits that turned out to be empty.
I know how difficult it is for archaeologists to even temporarily ‘withdraw’ these lands from agricultural use.
Nevertheless, the planetary administration is already insisting that the empty excavation sites be recultivated.
And — returned to agricultural use.
And, I am inclined to admit, in this the local administration — both planetary and district — is one hundred percent right.”
“Knowing you, Shepard, I won’t believe,” Anderson says, “that you’re only prepared to offer a refined map of potentially non-empty excavation sites.
You have something more than just a map.”
“I do,” the first mate did not deny.
“When I touched the chip’s armored capsule, my brain — for now I’ll define what happened verbally exactly like that, Commander.
My brain then perceived information that millions of Protheans were transformed.
In the Terminus Systems, representatives of a race calling themselves the Reapers or the Collectors have been appearing recently — they are called different things in different dialects.
Few have seen them in detail.” Shepard pressed several keys on his omni-tool’s mini-keyboard.
The images on some of the wall screens changed.
“But, in general — they look approximately like this.
This is an approximate image, existing only as a drawing.
Almost a sketch.
It’s good that the artist had an excellent, tenacious memory.
The Collectors usually don’t like being captured so accurately and completely.”
“Keeping the mystery…” Anderson said, surveying the presented drawing.
“An insect.”
“A fossil insect.
This ‘descendant,’ barely distinguishable from the original, is fifty thousand years old.
And that ‘squid’ is over twenty million.
By the most preliminary estimates.”
“And you suppose…” Anderson began.
“However, I know that you usually keep your assumptions to yourself for the time being, Shepard.
You know something that means much more than this drawing.”
“Yes, Commander.
And I thank all known and unknown gods that we managed to ‘take down’ this shrimp and its geth landing force before they got to what now belongs only to humanity.
To us Terrans.
And it’s worth hundreds of thousands of times more than this Beacon, whatever information it might contain.”
“Hearing you, I’m leaning towards only one option, Shepard,” Anderson said thoughtfully.
“You’re right, Commander,” the first mate confirmed.
“It is a living, original, normal male Prothean.
In a state of cryostasis.
In a capsule specifically designed for that purpose.
At a depth of thirty-six meters below ground level.
The area — I know it.
To within a meter.”
“Do you realize what you’re saying, Shepard?” Anderson looked directly at his first officer.
“I see and feel that you do.
What do you need from me?”
“Contact the archaeologists, Commander.
Have them pack up and move their equipment and machinery at full speed to the area I’ll indicate, and there — dig a shaft at a location I’ll also specify later.
Sorry, but for now I can’t say anything more.
The risk of active intelligence operations is too great.
Both Terran and alien.”
“I understand,” Anderson replied.
“Then let’s do this.
Since the Beacon is already loaded, our mission here…”
“Will be completed later.
And it won’t end with loading our guest from the distant past aboard the frigate,” Shepard interrupted the captain.
“I’m afraid our mission here will continue.”
“Alright.
Agreed,” Anderson said.
“I’ll talk to the head of the archaeological party.
I think they’ll be happy to participate in such an important project.
I’ll indicate that orbital scans revealed a suspicious location with characteristics very similar to a Prothean artifact.
You’ve instilled in me a love for digging through databases.
I’ve already studied some information on the local artifacts.
Should we move the frigate there?”
“No need to frighten our ancestor, in a sense, Captain,” Shepard replied.
“Let the frigate wait here, next to the ‘squid.’ I still believe that reliable security for this ship is only possible with our frigate’s forces, at minimum.
While we dig the shaft and retrieve our ally from oblivion.”
“An ally?
Are you so sure?” Anderson asked.
“There’s no reason for us to kill him.
There will still be fifty thousand years between us and him.
And we, the present ones, will become better and stronger if we can together overcome this gigantic distance in time and space,” Shepard replied.
“Commander,” Anderson’s omni-tool activated.
The voice of Lieutenant Alenko came from the bracelet’s speakers.
“The Beacon has been loaded into the container.
No damage, everything is in order.
No activation observed.
The head of the archaeological party is requesting an approximate area to move to.
They are finishing loading onto the transports.
Tentatively — they can report readiness to move in twenty minutes.”
“Report received,” Anderson replied.
“Send me the updated contacts for the head of the archaeological party, Lieutenant,” the commander paused, waiting for the omni-tool to beep, signaling receipt of the file.
“Good.
Tell them we’ll contact them soon.
Let them calmly prepare for the move.”
“Yes, Commander.” Alenko closed the channel.
Not long ago, Kaidan had arrived at the frigate on a shuttle.
He had certainly felt Ashley’s gaze on him as he boarded the small craft, as the heavy armored cabin door closed behind him.
He felt that gaze much later too, when the shuttle was already flying to the frigate.
On the Normandy, he had to quickly push thoughts of Ashley far back in his mind.
And — get on with his duties.
The shuttle pilot who delivered the Beacon to the ship said the road to the “site” took much longer than planned — and not just because such a valuable cargo was in tow.
The ship’s engineers and technicians had expressed quite reasonable doubts about simply placing the Beacon on the platform next to the Reaper.
So a new plan had to be developed and executed: a container was taken from the frigate’s hold.
Using grav-pads, it was placed on another “platform” located aft of the Normandy.
There, it was planned to load the Beacon into the container using two shuttles.
While all this was being prepared, the pilot of the shuttle transporting the artifact was ordered to proceed to the ship at minimum speed.
Several dozen minutes were spent on the careful and unhurried unpacking of the Beacon from its “harness,” installing it on the grav-platform, and “sliding” it inside the container.
Lieutenant Alenko was reporting the results of this process to the frigate’s commander.
Now Kaidan watched as the container doors closed, hiding the most valuable artifact from prying eyes, and as both Normandy shuttles lifted from their platforms to take the container on their slings and deliver it inside the frigate’s hold.
This procedure also took about half an hour: the engineers and technicians overseeing the transport process unanimously demanded the pilots exercise maximum caution and perform all maneuvers at the lowest possible speed.
“Not quite optimal,” Engineer Adams said to Lieutenant Alenko, who had approached.
“We’ve exposed the Beacon too much.
I’m of the opinion that we should have dragged the container to the camp.
Packed it there.
And then — immediately slid it into the hangar.
But as it is…
half the population of Eden Prime saw this artifact.
Rumors spread fast.”
“I agree, sir.” Alenko nodded, watching the two shuttles carefully move the container closer and closer to the frigate’s hangar bay.
“But, at least we’re doing this openly.
And — on a planet belonging to humanity.
If we were doing this on any other planet — then yes, you’d be absolutely right.
And we would have had to pack the Beacon into the container back at the archaeologists’ camp.
But as it is…
I don’t think we can consider all the inhabitants of Eden Prime complete idiots.
They know something about Beacons, at least.
And after our frigate encountered the Reaper here, engaged it in battle…
I doubt we could have kept it a secret that we loaded the Beacon onto the ship.”
“It’s a good thing we’re not publicizing our plans for this Beacon,” the engineer said quietly.
“Many of Eden’s inhabitants might think we’re not taking this Beacon off the planet for nothing.”
“They might,” Alenko agreed.
“And, I suppose, they have the right to.
Our job, for now, is not to give them extra food for thought.
And even more so — for conclusions.”
“The Beacon will be loaded aboard the ship soon.” The engineer checked his omni-tool and gave several orders over the speaker.
“Not planning to return to the archaeologists’ camp?”
“I’ll do as the Commander orders, sir.” Alenko himself was pondering how he could get back to Ashley quickly and, most importantly, legally, to see her again, to be near her.
He understood that he was drawn, powerfully drawn, to this girl.
“No orders yet.
And we still have enough work here.
What about the geth?”
“Studying them bit by bit.
What we can study without fully activating them.
A network mind.
Dangerous,” Adams said.
“A ship that commands geth with their organization based on advanced artificial intelligence and complete contempt for physical death…
That’s…
power.”
Nodding to the engineer, Alenko slowly made his way to another shuttle descending to its platform — he needed to coordinate patrol issues for the area surrounding the site where the defeated Reaper, the geth dropships, and the deactivated geth themselves, who had made up this giant ship’s landing force, were now located.
Kaidan had to push thoughts of Ashley to the back burner again, but for now the lieutenant enjoyed the ability to think fully, clearly, and extensively, without fear of being almost completely incapacitated for several hours afterwards, tormented by a terrible headache.
“How little a person needs for happiness,” Shepard said.
“To relieve them of migraines, give them a chance to participate in a non-standard military operation, to prove themselves.
And the person is happy…”
“Isn’t that wonderful, Shepard?” Anderson glanced sideways at his first mate, then turned his gaze to his omni-tool.
“Dr.
Chakwas is on her way here.
I believe she has important news if she decided to come here herself.”
The commander unlocked the door and offered the entering female medic a seat.
“Karin, we’re listening.”
“I know, David,” the doctor replied, sitting down in a chair next to the officers.
“As a medic, I’ve done everything possible in this situation.
I had to put them both into a medicated sleep.
The turian is easier — he has over eighty percent implants, as was correctly noted earlier.
That’s why he got off lightly.
Just minor fractures and bruises.
But the asari…
The fractures are far from minor, lots of bruises, cuts.
And other things.” She paused for a few seconds, gathering her thoughts.
Then she continued.
“That’s not the main thing.
Colleagues, I can’t restore the psychosphere of either of them.
Its indicators are still ‘suppressed.’ Although I no longer observe that terrible picture from before.
There are positive shifts after the sixteenth decimal place.
But this ‘improvement’ is happening extremely slowly.
Commander,” the doctor looked at Anderson.
“I’m asking you to inform me of the further plans regarding both of them?
What should I prepare them for?”
“Karin,” Anderson said after a short pause.
“We’re not going to kill them.
And — we’re not going to torture them.
We have a big job ahead of us on Eden Prime, related to archaeological excavations.
I can’t say more right now.
I don’t know everything myself yet, and the work, actually, is only planned for now.
So the frigate isn’t going anywhere from the planet.
I think this work will take at least several days.
So there will be time to maintain the recovery progress for both your patients.”
“Good, Commander.” The doctor nodded, agreeing with the statements of the ship’s head.
“If I may, I would like Captain Shepard to look at them both.
I am aware…
of his abilities.
Monitoring the condition of Lieutenant Alenko and Corporal Jenkins has yielded many results interesting to me as a medic.
I’ve reviewed the relevant archives and bodies of knowledge.
I believe we should not contact the Alliance or Citadel medical centers now, nor use local medical facilities.”
“We have fifteen minutes until we must give the direction point to the archaeological party’s transport column, Karin,” Anderson said.
“Captain Shepard will, without a doubt, fly by shuttle to that area.
And — will participate in the excavations.
We plan that their duration — until the expected results are obtained — will not exceed one Earth day.
Until then, I believe, he will be able to provide you with any assistance he deems necessary.”
“Yes, Commander.” Shepard nodded.
“May I be dismissed?”
“Permission granted, Captain.” Anderson nodded, watching as the first mate opened the cabin door for the frigate’s doctor and followed Karin out, not trying to walk beside her.
The visit of local authorities’ representatives to the archaeologists’ camp did not pass without a trace for Dr.
Warren.
From one of the officials, she received a written order instructing her to hand over her position as head of the archaeological party to Dr.
Stashinsky.
After which — to report to the director of the Center for Archaeological Research at the local University.
Having completed the unburdensome procedure of transferring affairs, Dr.
Warren packed her things and left the archaeologists’ camp.
Anyway, her former colleagues now had to change the camp’s location, and the deputies for economic and administrative affairs could handle that perfectly well.
Dr.
Stashinsky, as always, reserved only the general supreme leadership for himself, intending to focus on his own scientific research and the most direct participation in the upcoming excavations.
Sitting down in the passenger seat of the touring flyer that had arrived at the camp, Dr.
Warren did not look back at the place where the large settlement of the archaeological expedition had recently been located.
In her omni-tool was a file with an official invitation to work in one of the scientific divisions of “Cerberus.” She had to think about how to combine work at the Center with work in this organization.
It was good that the flight to the University’s location would take several hours — there would be time to think everything through in sufficient detail.
Now she could leave Eden Prime.
And, possibly, return to Earth.
Ashley had finally received a file with an order from her division’s command.
The document stated that the platoon should remain in its current location “pending further instructions.”
She had to inform the personnel of the order’s contents, give dozens of instructions so that people wouldn’t be idle or looking for trouble in the camp and beyond.
Then — personally inspect the area previously occupied by the archaeologists’ camp for…
Just for the sake of preventing all sorts of complications that might otherwise arise in the future.
Ashley already knew that the archaeological expedition that had excavated the Beacon would now be led not by Dr.
Warren, but by Dr.
Stashinsky.
And she sincerely regretted that she wouldn’t be able to talk soon with this intelligent man, extremely passionate about science.
He differed from Dr.
Warren in many ways.
In her, Ashley constantly sensed some kind of “double bottom.”
Williams didn’t want to, and couldn’t, constantly think about this “bottom”: a space marine platoon commander has plenty of troubles and concerns that are much more important than problems related to some civilian administrator “from archaeology.”
Staying in the same place?
It wasn’t difficult for Ashley and her people.
After the attack of the berserk drones, they had, of course, to hand over several space marines to the military medics, including the soldier who had tried so accurately to shoot at the approaching frigate shuttle.
Now the doctors were studying the health status of the new patients, but so far they categorically refused to explain anything, let alone provide any detailed commentary.
Ashley understood: what the Eden military doctors had encountered was too new.
So a quick solution to the problem shouldn’t be expected.
There was still no communication — neither with the Alliance space marine central base on Eden, nor with nearby settlements.
Noting to herself that filtering such a dense information stream must require the frigate to have impressive capabilities, Ashley headed to the hospital where the military medics had placed the “problematic” space marines.
The visit to the wards, accompanied by the doctors, took Sergeant Williams several hours.
Only upon returning to the camp did she learn that the Beacon had been loaded aboard the frigate.
No one among the Edenites, it seemed, actually had any information about the artifact’s further fate.
Having checked the posts and attended the daily drill and combat training sessions, Ashley returned to her tent and, sitting down on a folding chair, was finally able to relax a little.
Her thoughts naturally returned to Kaidan.
Sergeant Williams took out her omni-tool and began digging through the contents of her portable databases, intending to find at least some additional information about Alenko.
Having read all the texts that were available, Ashley turned off and folded the screen of her wrist device.
She sat thinking, staring at the tent flap.
The information was clearly incomplete.
That Kaidan was a powerful biotic — she had had the opportunity to see that for herself.
But everything else…
She was beginning to think that a significant portion of the data about Alenko in the portable databases had been “cleaned up.”
What was Kaidan hiding?
Or rather, not what he was hiding, but why the thought that Kaidan had some situation in his past, possibly more than one, that had significantly affected his later life and fate, wouldn’t let her, Space Marine Sergeant Williams, rest.
There was no information about this situation in either the general or the military databases.
Well, if Kaidan Alenko weren’t interesting to her as a person — she wouldn’t have even thought of spending time searching for additional information about him.
After all, she was a sergeant, commanding a platoon of space marines.
She had her own path in army life, and Kaidan Alenko, of course, had his.
So neither she nor he needed to establish any additional relationships beyond the bounds of army service protocol.
Besides, he was a biotic, and she was not a biotic, and to be honest, she was a little afraid of biotics.
You could, of course, read about them calmly and safely in books.
But seeing a real person up close who could break through a thick stone wall with a light wave of their hand…
That was unnerving.
That’s why Ashley subconsciously wasn’t in a hurry to let her feelings and emotions run free.
Kaidan, yes, she liked him, as a person and as a man — that was clear to her herself.
It couldn’t be called love at first sight, it couldn’t.
What love was this?
Someone liked someone, yes, but to immediately consider it love?!
No, there were no prerequisites for that yet.
Marveling at her own bureaucratically formulated thoughts about Kaidan, Ashley turned off her omni-tool, stood up, and paced the tent.