Shepard closes her eyes, hands gripping the back of Joker's chair, the pressure turning her dark fingers pale. The Collector ship is before them, an ominous, hovering mass in the space, apparently dead in the water.
Shepard murmurs in a language that Garrus's translator recognizes as Arabic. A prayer.
She opens her eyes after a moment, and her blue-violet irises are determined and cool.
"Joker, get us as close as you can before launching the shuttle. Make sure the cannons are trained on that ship, even when we're on it and alert me the minute anything weird pops up. I want to know if the Illusive Man is trying to fuck us over."
"Aye, aye, commander," the pilot says. "Do you want to do a ship-wide com?"
Shepard purses her lips and then nods sharply. "Yes."
"You're good to go," Joker reports.
"Attention all hands, while the boarding party is investigating, I want everyone on high alert. All guns are to be trained on that ship, and everyone is to be on watch for strange signals, outgoing messages, etc. I don't care if you've suddenly decided that video-calling your parents is a priority. Right now, no messages are to be outgoing unless they are to the boarding party with mission-relevant information. Anyone who disobeys that order is going to get a visit from me, and assigned to janitorial duty in the launch bay for the remainder of our mission. That is all."
"Remind me never to piss you off, commander," Joker says after he's turned off the com.
"That's why I like you, Joker," Shepard says, "You're smart enough not to mess with me."
"Garrus, Samara, move out," she orders, putting on her helmet. It settles easily over the dark purple fabric that hides most of her head, snapping into place with a sharp click. Garrus has never seen her hair, though he knows that it is apparently red according to her Alliance file.
Shepard's dark blue, almost black armor makes little noise as she walks to the shuttle. Garrus is right behind her, Samara ghosting along beside.
The asari Justicar is quiet, but that is nothing new. Samara is not usually too talkative and even now, months after Morinth's death, her grief is expressed in her silence.
"I want to punch the Illusive Man in the face," Shepard says suddenly as they slide into the shuttle. She's speaking Arabic again, the words scrolling across Garrus's visor as they are translated.
"If you can find him." Garrus says. "I'll help with that."
Shepard snorts. "I'll make Miranda tell me."
"How?" the Turian asks as the shuttle takes off.
"Shameless bribery," Shepard says with a grim smile. "Miranda doesn't quite have so much faith in him now."
Garrus rolls his eyes. "Good luck getting anything out of her. She's Cerberus, remember? They aren't exactly open about what they do. Rachni experiments way back when?"
Shepard grimaces, lips twisting into a scowl. "Urgh, could have done without a reminder, Garrus."
The shuttle sways slightly and the squad readjusts at the movement.
"Hey, you're the one who wants to wring TIM's location out of the Ice Queen," Garrus says.
"Maybe I should just shoot him," Shepard muses, already planning ahead.
"I may help with such a task," Samara says, tilting her head.
"We'll have to find the bastard first though, Samara," Shepard replies, checking her Widow for what has to be the eighteenth time in ten minutes. Garrus isn't going to bring it up though, he's just as bad about his own equipment and the Thanx cannons.
And those cannons are a thing of beauty. Garrus almost sighs at the thought of them but doesn't. He's not about to let anyone have any more dirt on him.
The Collector ship looms closer. It is unmoving, a still lump of metal and death floating in the star-studded black.
"Into the belly of the beast, as the humans say," Garrus quips.
Shepard laughs. "Let's hope it's not too eventful. I would hate to die again."
The shuttle lands with a soft thump. Shepard tightens her grip on her Widow.
"Let's go see what these four-eyed bastards have for us, yeah?"