Wednesday Shepard (nee Addams) took a deep breath of air on Earth for the first time in nearly ten years. The closest she had been to the birthplace of humanity since finishing her N7 training had been that one mission to Luna just after becoming a Spectre. Now, she was here at the special request of Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett to help him with something related to the Alliance Special Defence Committee. Not that she needed to be here in person, but even Hackett knew there was such a thing as the Addams Presence. He was, in fact, counting on it working in his favour today.
Some welcome and familiar faces were there to meet her at the dock in Vancouver, as well as a few unfamiliar or unwelcome ones. Front and centre was Hackett himself, his dress blues sharp enough to shave with. Next to him, and looking much happier and more comfortable than when she had seen him in formal Council robes, was Admiral David Anderson.
Next to the dark-skinned Londoner were the familiar (and ever-so-entertaining) forms of Kaidan Alenko and Ashley Williams, the former sporting Major markings on his shoulder, the latter with Lieutenant-Commander on hers. Also next to Anderson was an armoured human who only missed being classed as a krogan by dint of genetics, with LT bars and a nametag proclaiming him to be Vega. Next to Hackett was a collection of other haughty-looking officers, MPs by their uniforms, none of whom seemed pleased to see her.
Coming out of the Normandy-A Wednesday only had herself, since Joker was still piloting, Chakwas wanted to stay in the armoury and the engineers elected not to leave. Sam and Anacrusis were working on something truly fascinated to them, and since EDI still practically ran the ship herself, they were the only ones currently on board.
"Well hello there," Wednesday said, in what could have been a friendly tone from other people. Ones that didn't have a distinctly predatory grin as her gaze swept over her former crewmates.
"Shepard, good of you to come," Hackett said stiffly. On a closer look at his face, Wednesday could see the minute tic as his eyes moved slightly to the accompanying officers with him. David had fewer restraints, moving forward and giving his favourite student a hearty handshake.
"Wednesday, good to see you again," he said warmly.
"David, a pleasure. Can I assume the welcoming party is here for something official?" Wednesday asked.
"Yes, about that," David said quietly, before he was interrupted as an MP with colonel markings stepped forward from Hackett's side.
"Wednesday Shepard, you are hereby under arrest under the orders of Admiral Kyra Singh," the colonel began.
"Belay that," Hackett said quickly, but obviously not quickly enough for Wednesday.
"Objection!" she yelled, and it was said with such force that even the bureaucratic force behind the officer was halted.
"You are being arrested for crimes against the Uniform Code," he tried again, only to peter off into silence as Wednesday glared at him.
"This Admiral Singh obviously wants you to die, Colonel, since she told you to arrest an active Spectre," Wednesday said in icy tones. "Otherwise, you must be suicidal to think I'd allow you to even so much as look at me with shackles in hand."
"I'd suggest you take your orders back to Singh and remind the good Admiral that when I give an order, it is to be followed," Hackett said in a threatening growl. The Colonel looked between Wednesday's glare, not noticing the hand already gripping the sword hilt at her side, and his ultimate superior, wearing a look that just screamed impending demotion, and decided that discretion was the better part of him today. He left with not so much a walk as a waddle, the rest of the MPs falling in behind him. Wednesday smirked as they left, though Hackett's face didn't get any less angry.
"Am I going to get any more of that today?" Wednesday asked.
"Not as long as I have anything to say about it," David said, coming to her defence.
"Nor I," Hackett added. "However, to reduce the likelihood of you killing any Alliance personnel in the next few hours, might we move this to our meeting room?"
"By all means, lead the way," Wednesday replied, gesturing the men to go first. Hackett took the lead, with Wednesday falling in beside David as they walked, the junior officers following Anderson keeping a few paces away from Wednesday.
As they walked, Wednesday's smirk didn't lessen as she heard the bad whisper from behind her.
"You know Commander Shepard?" the tank labelled Vega asked Ash and Kaidan in a slightly Hispanic accent, for all that meant with near universal translators.
"Trust me Vega, you don't forget someone like her," Williams replied, and you could hear the shudder in her voice.
"I'm pretty sure she isn't a Commander though," Kaidan added, a little more spine in his tone. Wednesday said nothing, just felt warm inside at the fear she could still engender in her wake. It was nice to be remembered.
"So, I hear you've got a shiny new ship, David," Wednesday said for conversation as they passed through various corridors and along waterfront.
"She's beautiful Shepard, and I have you to thank for it," he answered gratefully. "Between you letting me out of that damn Council job and giving Steven the blueprints for the upgraded Normandy-class stealth ship, I'm finally in command again. Let me tell you, it's been far too long."
"So, what's her name?" Wednesday asked.
"The Waterloo," Anderson replied, voice tinged slightly with awe.
"Ah, a bit of nostalgia, don't blame you," Wednesday said with a knowing smile. "Have any French officers?"
"No, strangely enough," David said with a similar smile.
"If you two are quite done, this is unfortunately where I leave you," Steven said as they came to an intersection. "I've just gotten an urgent message and need to return to the Diablo. Anderson, I'm sure you can lead Shepard the rest of the way."
"Of course," Anderson replied, saluting. Wednesday gave a lazy, borderline sassy one, which Hackett took as a mark of respect from the Addams woman. The family was notorious for not showing anyone respect, deserved or otherwise, unless the family had given it. "Alenko, take Williams and rendezvous back at the Waterloo. Vega, you're with us, just up here," David said, taking the lead now. As they went, Wednesday heard a tone from her omni-tool and looked at it. She saw a message from Garrus, with another from Tali popping up just as she looked, and knew what they meant. She would deal with them later.
As they came to the room being used by the Committee, Wednesday was greeted by some of the ranking Admirals of the Alliance Navy.
"Shepard, thank you for joining us," the person in the central chair said. "We asked you here because you have a unique perspective on the Reaper threat. We wanted you here to give your assessment on our options before any such conflict escalates."
Wednesday stared at them all for long, silent moments, before she burst out laughing. The laughter was creepy, even to Anderson, who'd known Wednesday the longest. It seemed to bypass normal sonics, creeping directly into the brain and pressing a button the ancient hindbrain humans didn't use anymore labelled 'primal terror'. It was the sound a tiger would make if it could laugh at a sheep asking not to be eaten today.
"Admiral, the Reapers don't care about you enough to give you options," she said cheerfully as her laughter died down enough to talk. "They will simply ignore any term you try and give them and grind you underfoot. You are dealing with an enemy whose only goal is genocide on a galactic scale. Your only options are fight or die. And unless the frantic whispering from your techs behind me is another laughable attempt at my incarceration, then my guess is that you have simply run out of time to make that choice."
Wednesday turned to leave, her omni-tool already activated on her wrist. She spared a look at Anderson, communicating to him that now was the time to retreat, before an angry shout came from the chair again.
"Shepard, you can't just talk to us like that!" he began, before one of the technicians in the room said something that stopped him cold.
"Sir, we've lost contact with Luna base."
"What?" he asked.
"So soon?" David whispered, to himself more than anyone else. Wednesday was already moving though, David pulling Vega behind him to follow, when an enormous wave of sound crashed around them.
The sound was something like a cross between a tuba and an earthquake, and even Wednesday was not immune to its dread-inspiring call. She turned to face it as a giant purple thing descended from the overcast sky into downtown Vancouver. There was no mistaking the shape as anything other than a Reaper, nor the lethal potential of the red beams that shone with beautiful and terrible power. Wednesday barely had time to shout a warning before the beam sliced their way, shattering the window, vaporising the committee entirely, and sending the heavy desk hurtling in her direction.
All across the galaxy, the Reapers had arrived. In the skies above Earth, Admiral Hackett realised that there was no way to maintain any kind of space presence around humanity's homeworld - not if they wanted to maintain any kind of fleet. He would push to hold for one hour, so some people would have the opportunity to escape Sol, but after that he would reluctantly call the retreat.
He was also in contact with Arcturus and monitoring the battle data there through the QEC technology that Esmerelda Frump had released and he had pushed heavily for. By his own estimates, more than half of humanity's ready ships had the technology installed, and another quarter would finish installation very quickly now that the enemy had finally revealed themselves.
As the Arcturus engagement grew more desperate, Hackett was about to call for the Second Fleet to cover the escape of the Third and Fifth when an unusual override signal came over all the comm channels being used in that theatre.
"All ships retreat from Arcturus. I will cover you!" The voice itself was like the scream of a banshee, the kind of thing you only ever expected to hear in your nightmares.
"Admiral Hackett, I can't identify the source, can you confirm order?" asked a senior captain.
"What the hell was that?" asked another.
"All hands belay that last… what in the world?" came the voice of the ranking Admiral of the Second Fleet.
"Status, Admiral?" Hackett barked. While he had access to a lot of data, his counterpart was obviously reacting to something only he could see.
"It's Arcturus Station, Sir," came the weak-voiced reply. "It's… the only word I can use is transforming."
"Into what, Donner?" Hackett asked exasperatedly.
"I'm sending it to you now Sir, because I can't even describe it." Shortly after a new datafeed came into Hackett's view, a hologram of Arcturus station itself changing shape.
"No… not even she could… could she?" he whispered to himself as he zoomed out the display to show the transforming station as well as the advancing Reaper forces. He watched with grim fascination as the station moved into position and finally demonstrated what Esmerelda Frump had been doing on the station for the last six months. Hackett could only imagine what it must have looked like as the station itself unleashed a barrage of green fire on the encroaching warships.
"By the Gods," he heard over the comm. He'd never be able to say who had voiced all of their shock as the beam, almost as thick as a dreadnought itself, sliced right through the largest of the Reapers like Nazara had the Citadel fleet ships only three years before.
"I'm not going to get too many other shots like that, so I suggest you all pull your fingers out of your collective asses and RETREAT!" came the unearthly screech over the comm again, and Steven knew who it was now. He pushed a button on the private device Frump had given him and was rewarded a few seconds later by seeing her appear in miniature on one of his screens, seated in some kind of control chair even as sparks and other electrical shorts discharged around her.
"Steven, I'd love to talk, but I'm working on firing solution," she said shortly, but with a massive grin on her face.
"You do realise that you're not getting out of this, right?"
"No shit Sherlock," she replied, banging something with a mallet. "I've lived a long time Steven, but this is the first time I've found an enemy worth my time. Now, let me have my last hurrah, and go and be responsible. Gods, but it'll be a relief not to have to deal with everyone non-Addams anymore."
With that the connection cut, and he returned to the collective command of the Second, Third and Fifth Fleets.
"Well, you heard the lady, retreat with all speed! Rendezvous at the following coordinates," he ordered them, his voice never rising to a shout, but the firmness of his tone brooked no argument. "I'll hold Earth for as long as I can before I regroup and rejoin you. This is the first battle ladies and gentlemen, we need to prepare to fight a war."
"Aye Sir," came a chorus of replies, and Hackett turned his attention back to the defence of the Sol system for the moment.
Tali had thankfully been on duty when the attack came. At first it had just been manoeuvres in the Tikkun system, practicing positioning and fleet tactics for the battles to come. For this particular exercise the quarian Patrol Fleet and elements of the geth scout flotilla had deployed in the vanguard, followed by the Heavy Fleet reinforced by more elements of the geth forces constituting the first wave. The rear-guard of the formation was made of the newly refitted and rechristened Volunteer Militia fleet supporting the heaviest portions of the geth forces, including their flagship the 001. Then, at some unidentified signal, the Heavy fleet and a good number of geth vessels turned on the remaining quarian and geth fleets.
The initial moments of confusion had been horrible, before she had rallied with Shala'Raan, Zaal'Koris and the geth through Legion in organising the fleets into appropriate battle configuration. Fortunately, there was plenty of space for the fleets to effectively separate along the battlelines. Unfortunately, by the time order was established the renegade (and likely indoctrinated) quarians and geth had effectively separated the bulk of the combined fleet from the Relay. They were trapped, unless they wanted to decimate their own forces trying to escape. As soon as they were out of range, the turncoats effectively let them be, as if they were waiting for something.
Tali cursed and moved activate her QEC, but was interrupted by an incoming signal.
"You still want to be part of this?" Garrus shouted to his sister, who was standing next to him and glowing head to toe purple with her biotics. The last six months had been eye-opening for the older brother as he got a close-up hands-on experience of her newfound skills, and even he had to admit they were impressive. Maybe not quite on the same level as Wednesday or Pubert, but he knew it was unfair to compare her to the Addams. Still though, she seemed to be almost enjoying herself as the twosome fought their way through hordes of the zombie-like reaper forces on the surface of Menae.
"Are you kidding?" she asked incredulously. "The only way that I'm going to even have a chance with that delicious quarian is if I stick with you. Because let's face it Scarface, we both know you're going to be joining up with Wednesday at some point, and so will Tali."
"You may have a point," he conceded as he mowed down another husk. He looked up at the wrong moment as he heard a shuttle leaving, only to see it shot down.
"Crap, there goes Fedorian," Solana muttered as she threw another one with her biotics.
"Probably dad too, considering how close those two were these days," Garrus grunted.
"So, think you've got a shot at the top job now?" Sol asked, almost teasingly.
"Don't even joke like that Sol," Garrus shouted back. "There's a reason the Addams go high, but not the top job. Once you reach that point, it's all paperwork and no fun!"
"Well then, here's hoping that there's still a few people up the line of succession before you then, eh?" Solana grunted.
Before Garrus could respond, there was an incoming signal on his QEC, which he brought up as he found some cover.
Wednesday groggily came back to consciousness as she heard someone shouting her name, as well as moving whatever hand landed on top of her.
"Wednesday, you still with us?" David asked as the woman in question moaned.
"It'll take more than a desk to take me out," Wednesday groaned. "Not even the first time either," she complained as she got to her feet with an assist from Mt Vega, remembering the encounter with the previous Shadow Broker.
"Well, on the bright side, we won't have to deal with the Committee anymore," Vega said with dark humour, looking around with a grimace at the devastation in the room. Not everyone was dead, but it was a hellish scene, enough to put a smirk back on Wednesday's face.
"We got a message while you were out," Anderson said. "Hackett's covering the escape for now, but the First Fleet can't hold out for long. I'm guessing an hour or so, then he'll leave and we'll be on our own."
"Not surprising. Let's head to the Normandy so we can get off planet," Wednesday suggested.
"I'm with you there," Anderson said. "Closer than the Waterloo in any case. Speaking of which," he said as they started to make their way down towards the spaceport. "Alenko, Williams, report!" he barked into his omni-tool.
"We've reached the spaceport sir, and the Waterloo is preparing for liftoff," came Alenko's reply, though it was cut with static and interference.
"Get her in the sky and I'll send rendezvous coordinates," he said, cutting the connection as the trio came upon a blocked corridor. Wednesday and Vega moved around until they found an alternate path around the outside of the building. The three of them edged their way carefully across the narrow ledge before another Reaper descended, firing at a cruiser attempting to take off.
The human ship managed to get off a few shots, even damaging the giant opposing ship, before the red magneto-hydrodynamic lance of the ancient machine bisected the cruiser. There was a moment of silence as all energy in the surrounding area was sucked towards the ship, before it was released in an eye-searing explosion of light.
"Grab on to me!" Wednesday shouted, barely finished before the shockwave sent them tumbling down the building. Using her biotics, she managed to lighten their combined mass just before impact, making it marginally sub-lethal instead of splattering them against the concrete.
"You okay Wednesday?" Anderson said, hauling the tired woman to her feet.
"I've definitely felt better," she replied, taking out an emergency energy shot and downing the sugary drink in a single gulp. She'd pay for it later, but she was more concerned about having a later to worry about.
The three of them, with Vega handing her a spare pistol as they came across the first wave of husks, made their way carefully to the waterfront. It became obvious very quickly that getting all the way to the Normandy-A was going to be next to impossible, given the sheer amount of opposition they were facing, but she had another idea. After helping a group of soldiers get back in action after a support tower had trapped them, Wednesday spied a downed gunship. She pulled up her omni-tool and opened a channel to EDI.
"EDI, we need a pickup, can you pinpoint our location?" she asked.
"There is too much chatter to be certain of your position, Shepard," EDI replied apologetically.
"I thought that might be the case, given how much we're facing on the ground here. I've found a downed gunship, I'll activate the emergency beacon and synch the frequency."
"That should be sufficient," EDI confirmed. Wednesday lead David and Vega to the broken Mantis, pulling out the black box and activating it, before sending the data to EDI.
They didn't have long to wait, unfortunately the first thing to find them was wave upon wave of Reaper reinforcements. At the beginning it was just more of the human cyber-necrotic zombies, but eventually something else came at them. At first glance it was batarian shaped, or at least it had four eyes and a horrible maw filled with pointy teeth. However, instead of two arms, the right one had been replaced with some sort of techno-organic weapon, which fired at them and was surprisingly effective against their shields and barriers. It wasn't until there was a lull in the combat that Wednesday got a closer look at one of them, and saw that the arm had a second, human face joined at the shoulder.
"I guess we know what happened to most of the batarians," David muttered with disgust.
As they prepared for more incoming, there came a roar of engines and a wash of water as the Normandy-A finally caught up to them.
"Sorry if we're later Shepard," Joker said over the short-range comms, "We had to outrun a Reaper coming at the spaceport. We also picked up a friend." As he said this, a sister of the Normandy flew past, the ship's hull gleaming silver and blue. The lettering on the hull proudly declaimed her as the Waterloo, David's new ship. The two frigates floated down and the ramps descended, allowing David and Wednesday one last handshake. Before he let go of Wednesday's hand, he looked over to Vega.
"Vega, I've got a new assignment for you. Effective immediately, you are joining Shepard's crew."
"What!?" he asked.
"Shepard needs an Alliance representative on her crew," David said with authority. "Alenko and Williams have made it clear they will commit suicide rather than set foot on the Normandy while Shepard is still among the living, so you drew the short straw Lieutenant. We can organise your personal effects soon, right now just get on the ship and deal."
"Yes Sir," Vega said with a grumble.
"He's a good soldier Wednesday, but please try not to traumatise this one like you did the other two. There are only so many people I can give you."
"Appreciated, David. Now, while don't we get while the getting's good?"
"True enough," he said, the two of them jumping to their ships, Vega following Wednesday to the Normandy-A.
Wednesday watched through the closing ramp as the Normandy-A ascended, watched as people tried to get to shuttles to escape, only for the shuttle to be shot down by a miniature Reaper destroyer as they lifted off. She made her way up to the elevator, Vega following hotly at her heels, only to come up short when Anacrusis, the young rachni queen, met them at the elevator.
"Get back Shepard!" he roared, pulling out the first weapon to hand.
"Stand down Vega!" Shepard shouted, shoving his weapon away.
"Hello?" Ana asked in her part aural, part telepathic way, much more nervous now after Vega's outburst.
"What the hell is that!?" Vega shouted.
"Her name is Anacrusis, and all you need to remember Lieutenant is that she is on the same side as you," Wednesday said coolly.
"EDI, can we get a line to the Waterloo down here?" Wednesday asked to the ceiling. Vega wondered who she was talking to, before a hologram of an attractive woman appeared near a terminal.
"Yes Shepard, connecting you now," the AI replied. A few seconds later David appeared on her screen.
"Shepard, I know what you're thinking," he said with a heavy voice.
"Then you should know that you'll do much more good with the fleet, leading the fight with the rest of the galaxy, then stuck on Earth."
"They need a leader Wednesday," he said seriously.
"And they have one. My father is still on Earth, he'll lead the resistance, whether it wants to be lead or not."
"You've thought of everything it seems," David said with a crestfallen sigh. "Alright, I'll rendezvous with you later to finalise Vega's transfer."
"Not everything David, but hopefully enough," Wednesday replied. Before she could cut the connection, an incoming signal on her omni-tool flared to life.
"Incoming priority override signal," the QEC announced cheerfully. A second alter, an image of Esmerelda Frump, frustrated and bleeding and looking happier than she ever had, resolved itself above her wrist in full view of everyone in the hangar bay.
"Well, this is it everyone. It's been a fun life, but everything has to end," the woman shrieked as something rocked her almost out of the seat she was in, sparks cascading over her in a blinding torrent. "I'm just glad I got to see you all grow up into the horrible people you've become, even you Garrus. Now, my score is five Reapers," she said, before she shook again. "Make that six. Sadly, that's probably all I'm going to get. So make me proud, all of you, and gladly feast on these bastards!"
With that there was a brief impression of an explosion, before the connection went dead. Wednesday let a single tear fall down her cheek, even as she smiled, as one of the buttons on her QEC went dark permanently.
"A good life and a good death," David said solemnly. "Let's live up to her example then. I've just received the order, the First Fleet is retreating before we lose control of the system entirely."
"I'll see you later David," Wednesday said, closing the connection to the Waterloo. She was about to leave to the CIC when another signal was routed to the same terminal by EDI.
"Shepard, I have an incoming signal from Admiral Hackett," the AI announced.
Shepard accepted the call at the terminal, Steven's scarred face coming to life in front of her. The signal was choppy and latent, full of static. Wednesday was getting only about one in three words.
"EDI, can you clean this up?"
"I will attempt to do so," the AI replied. Almost instantly, the connection was almost normal, with just the odd jump or missed word.
"Shepard, before you leave Sol, I need you to pick up Doctor T'Soni from Mars. I don't need to tell you that she was working on something vital to all our survival. I can't spare you any resources at the moment, not without alerting the Reapers that something valuable is down there. But I suspect that you were planning on a stop there anyway," he said with a knowing look.
"You have that right Sir," Wednesday said with a grin.
"Good, then there's only one thing left for me to do. Shepard, as of right now I'm authorising you under Article 04-01 of the Emergency Powers code."
Wednesday's eyes went wide with excitement and she gripped the terminal with a white-knuckle grip.
"Don't tease me, Steven," she said in a soft whisper.
"I'm not teasing Shepard. We need every ship and captain we can get right now, and since it was impossible to reinstate your commission, I'm doing the next best thing."
"Really?" Wednesday almost squeaked.
"Uh, mind explaining what's got Shepard acting like a little girl, Sir?" Vega asked, thoroughly confused.
"I'm activating an old emergency measure we kept on the books. The official paperwork will come through later once we have time to lick our wounds, but Wednesday Shepard is essentially now given license as a privateer for the Alliance, allowing her recognition of rank and privilege as long as she fights the Reapers, until they are dead or otherwise neutralised as a threat."
"I'm a PIRATE!" Wednesday squealed, so happy that she couldn't contain herself, running up to Anacrusis and wrapping the young rachni in an enthusiastic hug.
In a rare moment of inter-species camaraderie, Vega and Ana shared a look that communicated the confusion both of them were currently feeling. Wednesday finally broke the hug and looked over to EDI's avatar, which was hiding a smile and giggle behind a hand.
"Joker, set a course for the Mars Archive. Vega, get ready for boots on the ground. EDI, run up the Jolly Roger!" She ran to storage locker next to the elevator, opening it to find her newly-repainted armour. Instead of the mismatching colours of the previously assembled pieces, they were all now a uniform matte black, with the distinctive red and white stripe that marked her as an N7 operative spilling from her right shoulder to her fingers. As she donned her armour, EDI's avatar worked on something, eventually turning to the partially-armoured commander to show off her handiwork.
Above her holographic palm hovered a model of the Normandy-A, a hologram of a waving flag being projected between the fins at the rear of the ship. Wednesday looked at it, the Addams Crest taking up the central space where you would usually find a skull. Instead of the crossbones, one was a detailed rendering of her own sword Vengeance, forged from the bones of the first Normandy, and the other was a dead Reaper, likely modelled after Nazara, the sword stabbing through the upside-down machine like a pinned cockroach. Knowing EDI, Wednesday suspected that the changes had been made in real-time to the exterior of her beautiful ship as well.
"Beautiful, EDI," Wednesday said in delight as she finished with the chestpiece. She quickly finished donning the rest of it, before moving towards the weapons rack. She pulled out her chosen weapons and checked them, only to find Vega staring at her.
"If you're ready, Mr Vega, then shall we get ready for our insertion?" Vega just followed her after quickly checking his armour, following her into the shuttle as she prepared to take them to out.
A/N: In the timeless words of Theodore Roosevelt: WHAT'S UP BITCHEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!
I tried, tried so very hard, to post this on April 1st, the two year anniversary of my posting the first chapter of Wednesday's saga. But then life happened. So Happy Birthday Wednesday!
Now we have come to it at last, the final tale! Who will win, who will lose? (... and who was born to sing the blues?)
Honestly, that's just as much a mystery to me at this point. I've got a few things ready and lined up, but there's a lot of story between the beginning and the end, and sometimes things just leap from fingers to page without the courtesy of checking in with Mr Brain. Still, I wouldn't trade that feeling for anything, and I hope you'll all join me for one last spin around the galaxy with Wednesday (who knows, it might be the galaxy's last spin!)
As always, indeed as with most authors here, I survive on tea, the occasional biscuit, and the endorphins of reading a good review, so help sustain poor starving artists like myself and leave a review!
See you next time!