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ME3 Chapter 1 - Galactic War Effort
🕑 Added 2025-12-30 20:05:18 +0000 UTCEarth
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“Hey there, Commander,” his girlfriend said, winking at him. She was out of her suit and didn’t wear much, and Shepard felt his heart skip a beat.
“Tali? You are out of your suit?” he asked. The room felt awfully hot now.
“I am,” Tali gestured to her bikini, something she had picked from human fashion. “What do you think?”
“Real nice,” he said, eyeing every part of her body. The white bikini on her lavender skin looked really good. “I guess those samples have finally proven to be useful, huh?” he added.
“Not really,” Tali grinned.
“Then how?”
“You remember how I hated everyone because they laughed at you for that whole business with the Asari sex demon?” she asked, and Shepard face-palmed.
“Oh no,” he despaired.
“Oh yes,” she said, “for some reason, the allergic reaction your bodily fluids triggered caused my immune system to release a special chemical that basically brought it to life.”
“Oh no,” he repeated. The allegations would never go away now if this ever were revealed.
“Please tell me you didn’t say anything to anyone,” he begged. He still received orgy offers from all across the galaxy.
“Too late for that. The medics detected that I carried some residue of levo amino acids, and well, the rest was history.”
“Oh no,” Shepard groaned. He wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.
“Anyway, I have to go and give some samples to help with the whole immune system issue. See you later, lover boy,” Tali said, flashing him one last time to raise his morale.
It did help a bit.
“James,” he called out. James Vega was assigned to his security detail, though he worked more as a secretary than a guard.
“Commander,” James saluted, “did something happen?” he asked, startled to see Shepard so distraught.
“Get me a bottle of ryncol,” he ordered. It would be necessary for the headache that would follow him.
“Uh, the krogan stuff that melts your insides? Are you sure?” James asked to be sure.
He had seen the aftermath of a human drinking a single glass. A whole bottle of it would kill them if they were lucky.
“If I don’t get drunk now, I’ll kill someone.”
“One bottle of ryncol coming up.”
—
“Commander Shepard,” a man barged into his lab, screaming. He was on the older side, face red, and fuming.
Though what he wondered was how the man even got inside.
“This is unacceptable,” the man shouted to his face, a spittle landing on his cheek. “You cannot just sequester yourself in here, refusing to answer the public’s questions.”
“I can’t?” Shepard asked, wiping the saliva with a tissue.
“No, you cannot. We need to know what you did with that station,” the man demanded.
Shepard’s eye twitched.
—
Shepard dusted his hands as the dumbass congressman went flying out of the window of the floor given to him.
“James, I don’t want to be disturbed again,” he scolded. "I am in the middle of something vital here.”
“Yes, Commander, sorry about that,” James saluted. “Won’t happen again,” he assured the Commander, looking out the window to see the old man go splat on the concrete.
—
“Son, you cannot throw a congressman out of the window,” Anderson complained while Shepard was soldering some parts.
“I just did,” he grunted. That moron was lucky he had gone down the expressway rather than having each and every single bone in his body broken.
“Yes, but as in you shouldn’t,” Anderson rephrased himself. No one was going to do anything to Shepard, even though what he did was a felony, but it still did not look good.
“I’ll definitely do it again,” Shepard grunted, much to his mentor’s annoyance.
“For the love of,” Anderson said, praying for patience. “What the hell are you even working on?”
He had just returned from the Citadel, only to be told to warn Shepard regarding his actions.
“A black hole projector,” Shepard said, startling Anderson, who almost fell down with the chair.
“Oh shit.”
“Stop chickening out,” he rolled his eyes, “I didn’t even connect the power source.”
“Thank god,” Anderson said, trying to still his racing heart. “Are you absolutely, one hundred percent sure it’s safe?”
He didn’t want Earth to be torn apart by a black hole in an attempt to kill a Reaper.
“Depends. Do you want a weapon capable of taking out the Reapers in one shot or not?”
“Damn it.”
“I thought so.”
—
“Shocking news in the Salarian Union. The Salarian Task Group has officially taken over the Union in a blitz move, with Dalatrasses put on house arrest. The speaker of the STG, Major Kirrahe, has revealed in a press conference that this radical and unexpected step had been taken to protect the Salarian Union against the Reaper threat, citing the ineffectiveness of the Dalatrasses in preparing the armed forces. Rife with rivalries and political disagreements, the Salarian Union’s contribution to galactic effort has been criticized from the beginning.
The first act of the Salarian wartime government was to increase military spending and share the advanced weapon and defensive technologies developed by the Union, which has been kept at bay due to the Dalatrasses.
Reactions among the members of the Citadel vary, but the overall outcome is that they will support the new government as long as the Salarian Government supports the galactic war effort.
The leader of the new government, an ex-STG member, Mordin Solus, has refused to appear for an interview due to his busy schedule.”
Shepard chuckled at the news.
Go Mordin.
“Asari Republics, fearing a similar intervention by the military forces, have increased the allocated resources for the war effort and started mandatory biotic training for maidens and matrons. Their vast eezo depots have been opened, and the full might of the asari economy is gearing towards war.”
Nice, Shepard thought, closing the console to continue his work.
—
Shepard watched Hailey with a sour face.
“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded to know. They were having online lunch, dressed in suits, the best they could do under the current circumstances.
“Shepard? I thought you said he wouldn’t be here for another half an hour,” Garrus said with wide eyes.
“I am right here, Garrus,” he glared at the turian.
“I can explain,” Hailey said.
“You are going out with my best friend,” Shepard explained in her place.
Hailey lowered her arms. “Okay, so I don’t have to explain.”
“We were going to tell you soon; we just didn’t want to bother you,” Garrus excused them.
Not that Shepard had a problem with it; he just didn’t want to be in the dark.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he waved their excuses away. “You two are adults; just let me know so I don’t walk into something weird.”
He didn’t want to see any accidents of that nature in his quarters.
“Got it,” Hailey said, giving him a thumbs up before making herself scarce along with the lunch.
“How are things on Palaven?” he asked. Now that his sister had left, they could catch up.
“You know us, we love war. Most of our WMDs are out in space, waiting to give the Reapers a spanking they won’t forget,” his friend reported.
“I would pay to see that,” Shepard grinned. The Alliance was actually doing the same, and when the Reapers came rolling in, they would have a wall of anti-proton torpedoes and nuclear warheads waiting for them.
“And I have been made the Primarch’s Chief Advisor on Reaper Countermeasures,” Garrus said, flashing the new insignia on his suit.
That sounded like a loaded title. “So you get to tell everyone what to do?”
“I do. It is a bit jarring to have generals saluting me, but I’ll get used to it,” Garrus complained, all in good fun. “What about you? Heard you were working on something top secret.”
“A portable black hole projector to have a handheld superweapon against the Reapers.” He didn’t know if it would be finished by the time the eldritch cuttlefishes came, much less if it could be scaled to ship size.
“Damn. Harbinger won’t know what hit it.”
“Yeah, I already handed over every piece of tech I had for the war effort, and with the geth and the quarians about to join the Citadel again, the Reapers are screwed.”
“I agree, but seeing how the murderous synthetics delayed their arrival, I don’t think they’ll just lay down and take it.”
Garrus was right, and the arrival route of the Reapers showed that the batarians would be hit first, which was the reason the Council was spending so much on their defense. If the batarians were caught by surprise, the Reapers would have billions of individuals to transform into disposable armies.
“Nobody said this would be easy.”
“Alright, I have to go. Come pick me up when you are ready.”
“Take care, Vakarian.”
—
“The Citadel Council, in a unanimous vote, has agreed to open negotiations with the Krogan Clans, intending to offer a cure for the genophage while limiting the natural birth numbers, in return for Krogan Clans joining the war effort.
With a physiology built for war, the experts agree that the krogan could stall the Reaper swarming tactics, especially if outfitted with heavy laser weaponry. Urdnot Wrex, spokesperson of the largest alliance on Tuchanka and Chief of Clan Urdnot, has agreed to the negotiations but requested Spectre Jonathan Shepard to arbitrate.”
—
“Shepard, there you are,” Wrex, right after the press conference, had called him, and he had an idea why.
“Wrex. What’s happening out there?”
“You know how it is. There is a big scary monster out there, and they need the krogan to kill it.”
“Right. Without you guys starting another rebellion in a century or two this time,” Shepard said with a very pointed look.
Because he didn’t really want the krogan to go down that route again.
“Don’t worry. We are working on that,” Wrex assured him, though Shepard would warn the clans regardless. “Anyway, I don’t trust the politicians; can you be there so they don’t try anything?”
“I am working on too many projects to be there in person, but I can join with the QEC,” he said. That is, if he could not finish the new wormhole generator in time.
“Eeh, good enough. Take care, Shepard; we need you at your best for the war,” Wrex said. “Though, if the negotiations fail, we can always ask for a sample of your bodily fluids to cure the genophage,” he added.
“Screw you, Wrex. Go headbutt a Thresher Maw or something,” Shepard muttered, ending the call.
Wrex’s laugh echoed in his ears even after the call was over.
—
“News from Rannoch. The Rannoch Federation, the budging government of the quarians and the geth, has finally been granted an embassy on the Citadel with the removal of the bans on AI systems. The joint ambassador of both parties, Zaal’Koris vas Rannoch, held a press conference on his first day on the Citadel, thanking Spectre Shepard for his efforts in brokering peace between the geth and the quarians.”
“More on Rannoch: the quarians have discovered a cure for their immune systems. Reports say that the source of the cure was Tali’Zorah vas Rannoch, Commander Shepard’s lover, and the samples acquired from the Collector base. Unconfirmed intelligence claims that Tali’Zorah’s immune system has been revitalized due to the bodily fluids of Spectre Shepard. Across the galaxy, monuments are being erected in the honor of Jonathan Shepard, with ceremonies held before them to bless newlywed couples with a long and healthy sex life.”
“Commander Shepard has responded to the news by saying, ‘I swear, if I see those statues, I am going to tear them down, and if anyone calls me a sex god again, they will be sucking vacuum.’”
—
“James, get in here,” Shepard ordered, going through the final system diagnostics.
“Sir,” James saluted, waiting at the ready.
“At ease.”
“Now, when that countdown ends,” Shepard pointed at the screen, “I want you in here to monitor the situation.”
“Where will you be?” Vega asked. If Shepard wanted a break, he wasn’t the best person to watch over a lab.
“Rannoch,” Shepard replied, carrying a beacon over his shoulder.
“Wait, what?” James asked, but before he could get an answer, the reality was torn open, and Shepard stepped through it, disappearing out of the room.
“What the hell?” his words echoed in the now empty lab.
The Defence Committee was going to flip.
—
Tikkun System
Rannoch
Shepard came out of the white portal, watching the surrounding area. Apparently, the gate still needed some calibrations, because he just arrived in a wilderness, with no sign of a settlement around.
Great, now he had to wait for the geth units to drop down for investigation and take him to the settlement.
It didn’t take long, however, and the geth units were concentrated around him, searching for the source of the energy spike on their sensors.
“Shepard-Commander. How did you arrive in Rannoch?” The geth looked hesitant, as if it didn’t know how to respond to Shepard appearing out of nowhere.
“Through a wormhole, but I missed the exact coordinates. There must have been an error in the galactic drift calculations.”
“We see,” the prime unit replied, its flaps moving up and down erratically.
“Anyway, can you guys call in a transport to take me to the settlement?”
—
The geth were tireless machines that were not bottlenecked by the galactic economic models and could build anything as much as they wanted, as long as proper resources and energy existed.
So it wasn’t a surprise to see the settlement look like a proper city in a year.
He was taken straight to the office of the presidents.
“Ancestors. Commander Shepard, what are you doing here?” Shala’Raan, the quarian co-chairman of the Federation, greeted him, while the geth chairman, Legion, followed her.
“Just testing some new stuff,” he said, shaking hands with both chairmen. “Where is Tali?”
“She is working aboard the space station. We will inform her immediately,” Legion offered, but Shepard stopped him.
“No need, just take me to the station. I can see how the work on it is progressing.”
“Very well.”
—
Shepard whistled.
The station was damn impressive. Outfitted with enough torpedo launchers to tie up a Turian fleet, the station also boasted hundreds of laser grid defenses, with production facilities inside to resupply and repair the station, along with fleets if necessary.
Quarian strip mining ships, automated by the geth programs in them, could keep up with the raw material demand.
Capital-grade deflectors covered the mobile fortress in a shell that would need dozens of Sovereign-class Reaper ships to punch through, and the stony exterior was replaced with ablative armor.
It also had a single dock that could repair a cruiser in hours, providing vital services to the fleet it would be assigned to.
The progress in Mass Effect technology through reverse engineering the station was a bonus.
—
Notes: I skipped those parts quickly so you can get an idea on where the galaxy stands against the Reapers.
