Rebirth The Mass Effect is old

"How do we lose?" Nihlus was taken aback.

"And that's it. The end and salvation are very great... They are strange and do not inspire confidence. To save ourselves, we need to build a Forge and dock it in the Citadel. By the way, we will fly to get his drawings after we meet with Saren on Vermire. Or before him, let's see. Saren is not going anywhere. A bugle is a ship. Chaos alone knows who developed it. But then the strangest thing begins. A Catalyst is required to activate the Forge."

"Do you know where he is?"

I couldn't help but laugh nervously.

"At the Citadel."

Then what's the problem?

"Now you will appreciate for yourself the depth and vastness of the ass we are in and the ephemerality of salvation."

Hysterical laughter erupted by itself.

"Rеnе!" the Turian growled.

"Nihlus, The Catalyst Is An AI! He's the creator of the Reapers! He controls them! And he will also give access to the control room of the Forge! Do you understand the depth of the cynicism of the situation? It all depends on the decision of this fucking AI! Whether we live or not! If this trash won't let me into the control room, the Forge is a useless and expensive attachment to the Citadel!"

Naylus sat in deep shock. An understanding of the horror of the situation appeared in his eyes and was replaced by a strange determination.

What are the options?

Salvation? According to this dirty trick, there are three: the first is to destroy the Reapers, the repeaters, the Citadel and all the synthetics of the Galaxy; the second is to take control and the third is the symbiosis of synthetics and organics into a new ideal form.

I'm going to die anyway.

Either I'll burn in a fire, or I'll be fried by lightning, and my personality will be digitized and a new Catalyst will be made, or decomposed into components and a mega-vaccine for the entire Galaxy will be made based on the genome. And all with the permission of the AI.

"That's bullshit." The Turian muttered. "Has no one been able to build a Forge during other Cycles?"

"That's it. They could. The Protheans definitely built it. But the result is zero. The catalyst slammed the Citadel into an armored bullet in their faces and waved goodbye! We need another option. Which guarantees, if not victory, then at least the survival of our species.

"In such an attack, only evacuation can give a chance for the survival of the species." Nilus muttered.

"It takes just a little bit — another way to conquer the interstellar expanses. Not repeaters, but something else."

"Similar studies have been conducted for a long time. At least in the Hierarchy." Nihlus told me the good news. "But I do not know if there is a result. But I will find out."

"Even if there is a ready-made prototype... we have three, four years at most for everything. You do realize that this is impossible, right?"

Nihlus did not answer immediately.

"I'll talk to the Council."

"And what will you tell them?"

"I'll find the words. But we need proof."

"We need Saren and Nazara. Or rather, his data banks." I met the gaze of green eyes. "Do you have any ideas how we can hack into the Reaper's brain?"

Nihlus choked on air and... thought about it.

* * *

Eight days flashed by in the blink of an eye. The crew rested for the most part, having little contact with the ship's crew, I slept off and ate off, so that I could give everything I had accumulated to Nihlus during the treatment. On the second visit, Karin observed this case, but found this method of treatment, although extreme, to be quite effective. But the doctor watched my health closely, noting the incessant changes in my body and genome. I did not share her concern and enjoyed the small benefits of the metamorph with pleasure.

Two days before I arrived at the Citadel, Ashley finally approached me. She's been watching our team all these days, but she hasn't said anything. The echoes of emotions gave hope that the girl would come to her senses or at least start thinking. And finally, Ashley decided to talk.

I was sitting in the recreation area, sprawled like a lazy amoeba on a wide sofa and listening to music. I found old Miracle of sound recordings and got high. I immediately remembered my first world.

Just an hour ago, I finished treating Nilus, and only ugly scars remained from the terrible wound. However, they can be reduced on the next visit, while they are still fresh and amenable to correction. A slight weakness set him up for a phlegmatic mood, there was a slight noise in his head, and his temples ached after restoring his shields. Just in time. I'll have time to rest up before arriving at the Citadel.

There was a whiff of determination and apprehension from the doors, with a hint of desperation.

I didn't even have to turn around to find out who it was.

"Come on in, Ashley." The young woman shuddered, but silently came over and sat on the sofa opposite.

"The Shepard Spectrum..."

"Yes?" I sat up straight, took off the headphones from my head where the beautiful vocals sang Moon light blu — my favorite song in that life, pretending to be attentive.

"Something happened?"

"I... I was wrong in my statements about the soldiers from the landing group." Ashley clenched her fists and met my gaze squarely. "They... worthy ones..."

"Reasonable. I prompted." How lovely... In this world, the rules of communication with mentalists are not even suspected! No one on Egros has ever looked someone like me in the eye. And here... It didn't even take an effort for me to slip into her mind.

There are no shields. Even natural ones! Excuse me, how is this even possible? The mind always protects itself! Although... No, here they are. Almost transparent, melted. It's a strange sight, to be honest. Perhaps this is the reason why the locals are so easily suggestible? Who knows?

"I'm glad you realized that."

"Will you drop me off at the Citadel?" Ashley asked bluntly.

"Is that what you want?" I raised an eyebrow lazily, slipping out of the fighter's mind.

"No!"

"Then why the question?"

Ashley was taken aback.

"But... I thought it was you... That I'm not right for you."

"Ashley, you're a great fighter. I have no complaints about your professional training. But until you can adequately perceive the alien members of the squad, I will not be able to take you on combat missions. You know that perfectly well."

"I... understand." brown eyes dropped guiltily, and the storm of emotions in the mental plane was simply amazing.

"Your worldview has been shaped by the pressure of the recent war and the general xenophobia of the Alliance's military forces. Biotics also suffered a lot because of their differences. People tend to be afraid of the incomprehensible and alien, and sooner or later we begin to hate what we are afraid of."

"I'm not afraid of aliens!" Ashley jumped up.

"You're afraid and you don't understand. You don't want to understand. You look at the exterior when you need to look into the soul. Evaluate the personality. Talk to Tali. She's a sweet girl and a great technician. Adams can't get enough of her. But Tali is very vulnerable and completely dependent on her spacesuit. But that doesn't stop her from trying to establish a relationship with the team, and she's just thrilled with Normandy!

Damn it! I didn't even need to make any special efforts to put an unobtrusive suggestion on an unprotected mind! The usual natural effects of mentalists or vampires, and that's it, say what you want and convince what you want! It's creepy!

"And... the Turians?"

It's generally easier for you to communicate with the Turians.

"They are natural fighters. Warriors from generations of warriors. Garrus is a great marksman and tactician. Nihlus... Nihlus is one of the most famous Spectr. He has a lot to learn and a lot to learn. Even Rex admits that, even though the Krogan have a lot more accounts with the Turians than humans do. And nothing, he communicates." But you couldn't. "I shook my head. It's at times like this that I feel ashamed of our race. Perhaps the Council is right: people are not ready to join the galactic society. Moreover, they are not ready to join the Council."

"But..."

"Think about it. Where should we go with such a worldview into a long-established system? Become outcasts because of your own arrogance and overestimated sense of importance? Who needs us like that? Would you let people like us into your own state?"

Ashley thought about it.

And the longer she thought about it, the more confused and... sour her face became.

"No. She wouldn't let me in." the woman confessed.

"You see. Try to look at those non-humans who are currently on board the Normandy in a different way. Don't look at the differences. Look for similarities. Believe me, we're not as different as you might think."

"What about Saren?"

"What about Saren?"

"He's a brutal killer!"

"Just like me." Ashley's astonished face warmed my dark soul. "Saren is absolutely ruthless and doesn't value life. Neither his own nor someone else's. He would just as easily kill anyone or die himself if necessary."

"He's a monster!"

"I'm not arguing. But you know... Saren is the perfect weapon. Except this weapon fell into the wrong hands. And we need to get him back... or destroy it."

"You sound like he's talking... deprived of freedom of choice. Will you have this choice if the command gives the order?"

"But it's possible somehow..."

"It depends on HOW they give you the order, Ashley." I sighed.

"Depends on how... Reapers are almost impossible to resist. At least... The Protheans couldn't. These creatures have an experience that we can't even imagine. Hundreds of thousands of years! What are we to them? Not even children... Just funny, barely intelligent animals. It is not difficult for them to deceive the animal and make it obey. But sometimes the animal CAN kill the trainer."

Ashley was stunned into silence. Apparently, she was trying to imagine Saren as an animal. I hope the proud Turian won't smash my head in for such a comparison later.

"Go get some rest. And think about it. If you decide to stay... I'll give you a chance. If not..." I spread my hands. "I'll help you transfer to another Alliance ship."

"I'll think. Thank you, Spectr." Ashley left, and I sprawled out on the couch again.

The Normandy raced through the repeater channel to the Citadel under the supervision of the night watch. Very soon, events will start racing. In the meantime... For now, you can enjoy the peace and quiet. I turned on my favorite music again. It's been a long time since I've heard her.

Chapter 13: Take a look for yourself, Counselor

A mass repeater named Citadel greeted us with a long queue and a glowing urn of the "Path of Destiny" floating majestically nearby. The swearing of Jeff and the unidentified dispatcher was stopped by the phrase: "We have Spectr on board!" and we were finally given a flight corridor and a parking space.

"Nihlus, you're a comfortable passenger!" Jeff grinned, steering the ship to the indicated mooring platform.

The Turian chuckled.

"The Spectr has its own privileges. Just like his ship."

The Normandy shuddered all over as the grapples went off, locking the ship at the mooring area.

"We have arrived." Jeff ran his fingers over the touchscreen keyboard, turning off the ship's engines. "Will I finish the tests, Rene?"

"Do."

"Are we staying at the Citadel for a long time?"

"If there is no emergency, then for three days."

"If it happens... You know that."

Jeff nodded and plunged into his work. He loves this ship. Probably more than anyone else on board.

Before I left for the Citadel, I talked to Pressley and we discussed the needs of the ship and its crew. The XO will make up a schedule for the departure of people himself, as well as a list of what we need to take on board before a long flight. While we are standing on the Citadel, the Norma will have time to undergo scheduled maintenance and minor repairs, load supplies, replenish arsenals, and generally purchase things that are so necessary for autonomous life in space. And Karin puzzled me with the lists of medicines that she would like to have, but she couldn't order without a lot of hassle. The list was especially long for dextroorganisms, for which medicines were almost completely absent in the infirmary, with the exception of the most popular ones. I promised to get what I needed, and at the same time I puzzled the XO by finding a normal cook and buying groceries, honestly warning him that if I found only rations in the canteen after the start from the Citadel, we would turn around and fly back, and Pressley would buy all the missing items from his pocket. I hope he's smart enough to buy supplies, considering we have a Quarian and two Turians on board. So far, these expenses are being paid by the Council and the obscure office to which the Normandy is assigned.

Nihlus was waiting for me near the airlock, clad up to his neck in heavy black armor. However, without a helmet. The captures include full ammunition: sniper and assault rifles, a powerful pistol. Spektr didn't carry a shotgun. On his hip is a cassette of grenades. Next to the tall Turian, Liara, in a simple black suit, looked surprisingly fragile and small, barely reaching the top of her head to Nihlus shoulder. I was also wearing armor, but medium armor, and I was also armed up to my nostrils. My paranoia, lovingly nurtured over long and bloody lives, woke up, and I didn't want to leave the ship without weapons and armor, fortunately, the status of the Spectr allowed me to indulge in minor weaknesses.

"I contacted consul Sparatus. He's waiting for us."

"Already?"

Nihlus shrugged his shoulders.

"Yes."

"I guess he'd rather see you alive and make sure I didn't lie to him."

"Maybe." Nihlus grinned as he opened the airlock. "In any case, he'll listen to us."

The massive slab of the lock shuddered, releasing us into the noise and din of the port part of the Citadel. Some kind of pot-bellied ship was unloading nearby, reasonable people were swearing and brawling, someone was in a hurry somewhere, and someone was suffering from boredom. The usual noise of mooring platforms. The C-sec staff approached us, seeing the sentients in full armor and with weapons, but Nihlus showed our identification cards, and the Turians intelligently left, allowing them to go to the elevator.

"As I understand it, we are not going to the Council Chamber."

"Sparatus will meet us in his private quarters. I warned him that there was important and not particularly pleasant information."

"Have you prepared yourself mentally?" I smiled.