Disclaimer: Don't own anything but the slightly off personality of my Shepard.
Note: English is not my mother language so I shall immediately apologize for any grammatical and/or spelling mistakes made. Mind you some of it is quite deliberate.
*ch3.
The Citadel, at the same time both elegant and pretentious in design. Exceptionally functional of course – but that was given considering its original builders. Now that she thought about it a bit better, with its heavy gold and black colors from distance it reminded her greatly a smoother, less threatening version of Collectors' ship.
It has been good two years, and then some, since the last time she had set her eyes on this place. It had not changed, just as she imagined it had not changed since the time Reapers have first built it. Not that anyone living on the Citadel would acknowledge it. On a strictly personal note, she had little desire to visit this place beyond bare essentials necessary for the crew, ship and some for herself. It reminded her of little more than an Omega with a facelift, same soul with prettier eyes. Nothing one should loose a head over.
Leaning a bit to look through the windows of the bridge she spotted not too far away, reminiscent of a large devilfish, the flagship Destiny Ascension easily floating by between heavy clouds of nebula concealing both structures. Looking at it developed a bad taste in her mouth. Among many a useless ship in the fleet she'd point out this particular one to be near the pinnacle of uselessness.
Shepard leaned against Joker's chair, "EDI, ship-wide comm, if you'd please."
"Very well, commander," synthetic voice answered immediately.
"Good morning, afternoon and evening my crew; this is your captain speaking. We have just docked one of the less glorious places in the galaxy and there are a few matters to be resolved before you gents and ladies take some well deserved shore leave." The captain let out a dramatic little cough. "Now, to minor duties that need be performed before any relaxation can be have; due to generous abuse and overkill of showers at times most inappropriate – fuel is not the only thing that needs constant replenishing here people – crewmen Patel, Goldstein and Hadlay will help our favorite jack-of-all-trades – not talking about you Suze don't get your nonexistent panties in a bunch," – Shepard cheerfully, and quite correctly, imagined engineering deck reverberating with one very loud 'fuck you' at that moment – "Mr. Gardener shop, buy and bring ingredients for some edible meals, turian and quarian specialties included. Thank you for flying, serving and enduring death-like situations aboard Normandy SR-2, and remember, you can get drunk but don't get killed or spill out your codes."
Finishing her all around warming sermon, Shepard pulled her helmet on.
"Nice speech," the pilot drawled.
"Sarcasm is growing strong in you, Joker? Give it a little more time and you'll be more compatible with EDI than you might even imagine."
He let out a little disgusted 'yeesh' followed by a shudder. Instead he twisted a bit to take a look at weapons strapped on Shepard's back and hips. She probably had one out of every available portable weapon on the ship with her.
"That's some heavy weaponry to take on a Council meeting, commander. You planning an attack?" Joker noted not trying to mask his mock light tone.
"Self defense only. This is, after all, the Citadel we're talking about," Sofia sniffed taken aback, splayed hand resting in her chest. "Can I even name the number of times I was shot on Citadel? No attempts. Clear shots."
"Uh-huh, as if any of them got away with it," he joked when a discreet, yet meaningfully menacing cough interrupted him. "Anyway, those wouldn't happen to have anything to do with certain turian councilor?"
"Joker," Shepard was aghast. "Give me some well deserved credit here, my friend. I would certainly not try anything that blatant." Glancing around in a suspicious manner she leaned over pilot's chair lowering her voice to a scheming tune, "Besides, gunning him down would be much too painless, quick and not all too enjoyable."
Joker laughed but EDI, with her blue lights flashing, was of another opinion, "It would also cause serious damage to current political structure in the galaxy, Commander. The probability that such course would hinder any potential action against the Collectors and Reapers is very high."
"Great. Now I'm forbidden to have happy thoughts as well."
Chuckling Shepard, with every intention to get off the ship and leave the pair to their sordid affair, turned around to see her second-in-command walking fiercely around CIC. Sheprad quickly surmised that the bridge lacked good hiding places.
"You'll have to exorcise your demon on your own Joker, mine is just getting ready to sink her claws into me," she patted his shoulder before walking short distance to CIC where her Cerberus operative and subordinate looked like she would crush something – namely her – to the size of Rubik's cube, and use her much for the same entertainment purpose. "Miranda," she started sweetly, "may I be of any kind of service to you before politics takes hold of me?"
"I am questioning how wise this is Shepard," was immediate and resolute answer complete with arms crossed over her chest and fierce blue eyes staring her down.
"This? This what?" Sofia frizzled innocently though her helmet.
There was a minuscule, perfectly concealed twitch on Miranda's flawless face, "Letting the crew off board, commander."
"Ah yes. That."
Lawson's customary tilting of her head was followed by an intake of breath, a sure sign she was on the good path to frustration. Each time Miranda had any kind of conversation with Commander Shepard she had to remind herself that what they were doing here was for the greater good of humanity; and furthermore, how patience was a virtue.
Funnily enough, back that day on Illium when she had rammed her omni-tool into elevator console to make it go faster Shepard's fine-tuned voice told her much the same thing, 'Patience is a virtue, Miss Lawson. Exercising it can bare fruits.'
Miranda let her hands fall to her side and shook her head, perfect dark hair perfectly not falling about randomly, "I have to wonder if it's always going to be word games with you."
"Yes. But I am not doing such at the moment," Shepard allowed herself a smile under her helmet. "You do not believe they deserve some time off ship? Or are you concerned that some of our more prolific guests might not wish to return?"
"The later had crossed my mind, yes."
"The crew needs this," Sofia's voice turned a notch more serious. "I need them to need this. Because if they don't need this, they won't be needing for much else in the future."
Miranda was highly tempted to roll her eyes – she managed to hold back though. No more word play, Shepard had said. Of course, and Joker and the AI will call a truce and become best buddies on the ship.
"I see I'll have to take your word on this one," but to that she didn't receive any answer and the helmeted expression wasn't giving away. Instead she proceeded in a more business manner as she followed the other woman to the airlock, "Will you be off board for long, commander?"
"Depends. I have a Council to shock, Anderson to gossip with, death status to revoke and fishes to buy," Shepard counted on her fingers. "I'd say that counts as a full schedule."
"Fishes?"
"Fish-tanks are usually filled with fishes, are they not? And there is a reliably big fish-thank in the loft."
This was Shepard's famous way of sorting out priority. Miranda knew that the commander was deliberately pushing her to a new limit but for what purpose, beyond her twisted sense of humor, she could not grasp.
"How you become the most successful military leader in recent history, I'll never know."
"Oh, the stories I could tell you," Shepard chuckled and to her surprise, Miranda actually smiled a little.
"I'll take you up in that; one day, when we're not at the edge of our seats constantly. Commander," Lawson greeted before with a practiced spin she returned to her duties, some of which probably included reports for their all seeing benefactor. With an honest and amused smile Shepard too turned on her heel and walked out of the ship.
Barely out on the docking bay, plans buzzing in her head and with the attention span of a child in a toy store, she almost kissed the ground as Jack all but plowed roughly into her making her stumble around a little before regaining her footing.
"Words is," the commander called out, "that Chora's Den has been closed. I do not know what gentlemanly cesspool has risen in its place but Omega would certainly hit you harder if you can afford to wait until then."
The biotic turned around and with equal rush of adrenaline bounded back to Normandy's commander.
"Just a little heads up, I should think," Shepard let her know, nonchalant in the face of rage only Jack could bring. There was strange, malicious light to her dark eyes. 'Hostile' was not the right word. That would only imply her attitude towards everyone; but here even 'despise' could pass only lightly.
"I'd figure you'd know better by now but you just love to fuck with your life, don't you."
"I find myself lacking that many other things to fuck with, Jack," Shepard replied, ice covering her laugh. Her voice lowered a notch as she leaned over to biotic woman, "For me, this is mandatory."
Jack pulled back, eyes narrowed at the red visor that in turn reveled nothing. She snorted, "I figured it was just an act but fuck me, you really talk like a fucking pussy."
"Well, we learned from the best, didn't we Jack," Shepard light voice mocked. Muscles around biotic's mouth twitched and for a moment the tattooed woman looked like she would attack; but she just pushed past the commander roughly, fist ramming sideways into her shoulder.
"I need to get off this crackship," Jack hissed.
Sofia did nothing as the woman moved away from her and watched her disappear down the docking bay in whirl of dark colors with a dash of electric blue, Shepard was reminded heavily of a mass relay – all powered up and no ship to jump in sight. Sofia made a mental note to check the whereabouts of said ship later. It would be tragic incarnate were Jack to miss it.
*/*/*/*/*
As far as he could remember there were always humans in C-Sec, few he could number to have had any semblance of a rank. Not so now. Captain Bailey was the living proof of an officer who went along with bureaucratic crap so long it didn't put a road block on doing his job. Something he always wanted to do but dared not until Shepard came along. Still, it did make him wonder, however briefly, why more of his kind had not applied for the jobs.
Getting the info from his old contacts in this place, out of those few which remained or were alive even, was not so difficult. There was some suspicion involved considering he had just stepped out of the ship bearing an emblem of a well-known terrorist organization – a well-known terrorist organization with a not so benevolent outlook towards all non-humans, not to forget. But to glean as much information about Fade, or Harkin as it were, before going to squeeze the answers the way he would squeeze air out of his lungs – because that's exactly what Garrus was going to do – this was an excellent place to start his task. To finish it, it'll require commander's presence, as they have agreed.
"Shepard, come in," he called and waited for a moment but only received silence as a response. "Shepard?" Still with no answer. Frustration rising, he contacted the AI, "EDI, locate and contact the commander."
"My apologies Officer Vakarian, but I am unable to detect Commander Shepard at the moment," the AI replied somberly.
"Unable or unwilling," Garrus muttered taking his hand of the comm and shook his head. Typical bloody Shepard. She probably put EDI under strict orders not to tell anything. By now he should have been long used to her abruptness and tendency to 'vanish' into thin air, and though rarely was he ever at the receiving end of it, he could still remember Chief Williams raising high hell and water aboard the old Normandy at Shepard's unpredictable behavior.
He knew for certain that she was supposed to see the Council, one of the reasons they've docked the Citadel in the first place, but that was few hours back. She could have chosen to either frolic one of the Citadel Wards or be back on the ship. Either way was not helpful to him. Turning his head spotted one of his fellow crewmembers coming out form the direction of C-Sec Customs.
"Thane," he called out to him stopping his track. The assassin noticed the way turian moved, jerky impatient motions right in front of the C-Sec station. "Have you seen Sheaprd?" Garrus asked, light, anxious tittering to his voice. Immediately, Thane's mind called back images of their last conversation.
"Not today, no," he answered simply and turian let out a quiet 'damn' but he picked it up anyway. "Have you tried the comm?" He offered politely in return. Garrus waved his hand dismissively.
"I did. She switched it off. Normandy could go down in flames and there'd be no way for us to contact her." Frustration was evident in his voice as he paced about, a contrast to Thane's almost immobile stance.
"That is a strangely careless choice on her part," the drell concluded. Carelessness was not an attribute he'd subscribe to Shepard. Obsessive planning suited her more.
Turian snorted in agreement, "Yeah, but I'd dare you to tell that to her face."
From what little Thane knew of her so far, she'd likely laugh, say 'how very true' and then go her merry own way.
"Shepard, was it?" the voice of Captain Bailey cut in as he moved pass them. Both aliens turned to look at the man, miniature console in his hands and a somewhat grim expression on his face. "Redhead, has a twisted way of talking, grins like a Cheshire cat on steroids?"
"That is an accurate enough description," Thane commented dryly.
"She passed by here alright, came to revoke her death. Scared half of my men in the process." He shifted, "She said she had unfinished business with the council. Could involve guns for all I know." Something blipped on the small screen and he looked down, "And it looks like her Spectre status has just been reinstated. Huh, must have done something to impress the Council. Besides coming back from the dead." His eyes turned back to the two of her crewmembers, "If you're looking for her chances are you might still catch her up there."
Garrus nodded, thanked him and left. With matter settled, Thane had his own way to go.
*/*/*/*/*
Chance or not, but by the time Garrus reached the Citadel Tower the meeting with the Council was already over. Their commander, however, was still in hot debate with the human council representative; and despite facing someone temperamental enough to chase Saren relentlessly across galaxy with promise of biotic dismemberment, Anderson looked as if nothing but a harmless malfunctioning VI stood before him. And if it was possible to judge correctly from her ruthless expression the conversation seemed to have departed from topic of safety of the galaxy into waters she didn't approve off.
"I don't care if he pulled the kicked puppy routine on you; you shouldn't have given it to him!" Shepard's hand cut through the air sharply.
"He said he only wanted to apologize. It was a reasonable request."
She grunted, "Right. You inform him then, that if he wants to tell me anything, he should get more confidence in his manhood, grow a backbone and face me directly. Not use an intermediary. And you can quote me on that."
"Sophie, a man prone to suicide would be reluctant to face you once he's earned your ire," the man replied and with an air of poorly concealed glee around him.
The woman snorted, sound of disbelief and dismissal, her eyes turning to her crewmember at the bottom if the room. Yes, she had turned off her comm, quite likely why he was up here. Anderson noticed him too and recognized Garrus.
"I see your old teammates are flocking around you."
"Some of them," she noted with a frown and a dark expression. Resent banter had left a bittersweet taste in her mouth.
The councilor turned to look at her, squeezed her shoulder, "I'll do what I can from here. I'm not sure how yet, but I'll manage something. In the meantime, you do what you do best."
"As always, sir."
"Take care of yourself. And you don't need me to tell you not to trust Cerberus," he nodded and replied worry and trust were equally etched in his face. She responded honestly to that. Nodding and saying her goodbyes she walked down to short flight of stairs, her expression a picture on nonchalance.
With a brief nod to the councilor Garrus followed her out. Peculiarly, she forwent the shuttle in favor of taking a stroll down the busy streets. He was eager to speak with her and share information he had recovered, to set matters in motion. Unfortunately for him and his characteristically unchecked curiosity, the first word that left his mouth was a wrong one.
"Sophie?"
Shepard stopped, paused, turned around and approached him with a calm, somber expression, one very un-Shepard like.
"Garrus," she started laying her hands on his armored chest, "I consider you to be my best friend, buddy, most trusted partner to watch my back and a member of a family I never had. My right hand man. Alien. Mailen, if you really want to butcher the words. Someone I'd walk for into fire itself. Share a creamy cappuccino even if your stomach were a little less sensitive."
It might have been the room temperature or it could have been turian metabolism, or just maybe it had something to do with things she said but the shade under his paint grew a tinge darker.
"I- well… thanks," he tried, making his tongue unstuck from the inside of his mouth. It was an adorably awkward moment. One promptly shattered when she used the wide chard brim of his armor bowl to yank him roughly down to her eyelevel.
"But if you call me that cutesy name again I will use tweezers to rip your metallic scales off one by one; watch you bleed and twist and curl and color the floors in many hues of metallic blue as I skin you alive centimeter of your hide at the time." She paused, letting the words sink in through his translator so he could absorb their full meaning along with the tone of her voice.
"Savvy?" She breathed out.
The turian nodded quickly, mandibles pressing tightly against side of his face, "Giving Shepard pet names brings pain, agony and certain death. Got it."
Clear unblinking eyes grounded him firmly but for but a second more before she pulled back, ruffled expression almost immediately returning to previous smoothness and maddening smile.
"Good. Now, seeing how you have wasted gratuitous time in coming up to this hellhole – also known as the Presidium – something must have happened, and I do hope it has Collectors involved because it would make my life with the Council a matter much simpler to deal with."
"Nothing that dramatic commander. It's just-" he paused before tone of his voice, along with his eyes, turned serious. "I've located Fade."
Shepard pulled back, her expression shifting to calculation, "What scale of murderous intent are we talking about here?"
"Blue Sun mercs, mechs…" he shrugged, "It's an industrial complex. Your guess is as good as mine."
Her eyes roamed over the landscape, curled fingers of her hand drumming against her lips in thought, "Then an extra hand with an extra weapon of destruction would be welcome, yes?"
*/*/*/*/*
Stepping out of the more prominent glass covered buildings Thane briefly touched his forehead before stepping into the flow of the Citadel, blending in among many creatures so well despite drell being a rare sight. Even with the meandering of the crowd his was by no means directionless. His mind at least, was working with cold fury rare to his character.
It was unfathomable how the bankers could have made such a mistake. The news they've received of his death was as of yet premature and must have been fabricated. For it had to be either that or his only child had finally started to dig through his father's past, and while the later option was more likely it also filled him with a sense of dread. Still, that alone would not explain how he managed to acquire the package so soon – or even learn of its existence.
This will require investigation, but not now. Now he needed to check on his son.
He would have to send the message though EDI – it would not be his first choice to use Cerberus AI's secure channels, and he certainly had ample informants he'd worked with during his career, but he had little knowledge of how long the Normandy would be docked on Citadel or if the AI played friendly with informal mail – and wait.
But even with worry and tension building at slow pace within him he was always vigilant, so it baffled him then as he made his way back to the ship, surprising even for he had not expected it, when the commander appeared on his path, crowd splitting around her like a curtain on a stage with helmet under her arm and a barest hint of a grin on her lips.
"Mr. Krios," pads of her fingers came together as her smile widened under her very much amused eyes, "You wouldn't happen to have something planned for the afternoon, would you?"
How did Captain Bailey describe it? Cheshire cat on steroids – yes, that was the one. A most accurate description if he ever heard one.
"Not anymore," was his simple, if coerced, answer.
*/*/*/*/*