New Mail
Personal (1)

Miranda saw the notification in the corner of her eye but continued to type, still trapped behind a wall of holo screens at her desk. She had two hours until she took lunch and at least four hours of work. Even if she weren't already behind schedule today, the message would have to wait. Personal business always waited until personal time, no exceptions.

Of greater interest was the fresh intelligence from informants in the Decoris system concerning ambushes of merchant vessels in the sector. She still didn't numbers, but at least knew the name of the perpetrators: Blue Suns. That revelation at least made planning possible. She checked her schedule and found the hour at 1600 to be open.

She patched into the ship's comm net. "Mister Massani, might I have a moment?"

"Yeah, what?" came the gruff reply.

"I've got some intel concerning our next mission. I'd like your input on it. Are you free at 1600?"

"Hang on, could be I'll still be watching this garbage masher then." There was a long pause. "Nope. 1600 works for me."

"Might I suggest you use this time more productively? We have a library full of combat simulations."

Another pause. "You're shitting me, right? I don't have time for video games."

"It was just a suggestion." Miranda shook her head as she filled in the slot on her schedule. "I'm sure the garbage compacter could use the attention. I'll see you in my office, then."

"Not if I get a better offer."

"Thank you," Miranda said and closed the channel. How someone could stay down below like that and just do nothing mystified her. If not to fight off boredom, free time should be spent preparing for their next operation. Anything less would be negligent, considering the stakes. But, as a paid contractor, Zaeed Massani was only obligated to fight, which he did exceptionally well. What he did in his spare time was up to him.

Who else should attend, she thought? It was always best to have more than one source for information. Vakarian would likely have good input considering his experience on Omega. After Shepard granted him a post on the ship, she created a calendar for the turian in the system. Amazingly, Garrus kept up with it and used it proactively to arrange meetings and briefings. They didn't see eye to eye on everything, but if she respected anything it was efficiency, and Garrus Vakarian was as disciplined as anyone on the ship. She sent him the meeting request, then slid the calendar from the display. In the mean time, four more emails had arrived.

She scanned the headers: two supply requisitions, another intelligence briefing, and routing information for Sanctum in the Decorus system. She opened that one first. Star charts and relay maps popped open in several windows. As they rendered, her eyes fell back on the unread message in her personal folder. You already know what it is and who it's from, she thought. So there's no need to look at it right now. You don't need the interruption.

The door chime provided its own interruption. In the corner of her screen, Jacob's face appeared. She hit the open button with one finger as a prelude to a fresh attack on the virtual key pad in front of her. "What is it, Jacob? I'm very busy here," she kept typing as he approached her desk.

"I'll make it quick," Jacob replied. "What happened with you and Tali?"

Miranda's hands didn't slow. "What do you mean?"

"She showed up in the armory earlier. She seemed a little agitated."

"I see." Miranda brushed the star map window aside and replaced it with a spreadsheet. "So you assumed it was me that agitated her?"

"Come on now, I didn't say that."

"Well then, are you saying Zorah went to you to discuss our conversation?"

"No. Hell, she barely ever talks to me. I don't-"

"Then what are you saying?" Miranda waved a hand and her display went dark. She locked her fingers together on the desk in front of her and looked up at Jacob expectantly. "I'm all ears."

Jacob blinked. "Guess Tali's not the only one who's on edge, huh?"

"I'm busy," Miranda snapped. "And these constant interruptions aren't helping any. So is that what you came to tell me? Tali's upset? Do I need to go give her a hug?"

Jacob crossed his arms. "Garrus and I were in the armory working on his rifle-"

"Oh," Miranda gave an exaggerated nod. "She went to Garrus. Like she always does when Shepard isn't around. Don't worry. She'll get a hug from him, I guarantee it. Is there anything else? Something perhaps related to our mission?"

"You know what? Fuck it. Never mind. It's not important."

"Well I'm glad we had this conversation. I won't keep you any longer." When he didn't move, Miranda waved her screen back to life and resumed typing. "Dismissed."

The hatch whooshed open, revealing the Normandy's shuttle pilot behind it. He looked nervously between the two senior Operatives. "Oh, sorry," Rolston said. "I was just- I saw Mr. Taylor walk in and I didn't want to interrupt. I just needed a minute of your time, ma'am."

"Come in, Mr. Rolston," Miranda said, her eyes fixed on Jacob. "He was just leaving."

"Thanks," Rolston said, sidestepping around Jacob and nodding politely. Jacob looked over his shoulder at Miranda, who steadfastly ignored his gaze, and walked out.

Miranda sighed as she looked up at her latest interruption. Rolston's skin was flushed and his forehead glistened slightly with perspiration, deeply furrowed with worry. The bitterness in her voice disappeared. "Is something wrong?"

"It's my wife. And my daughter," Rolston said. "They're out on the rim, ma'am, I mean right out on the edge."

Miranda nodded. "New Canton. I know."

"Yeah," Rolston paced in front of her desk. "Well, I've seen some of the reports we're getting, heard some of the guys talking. The collectors are on the move. I mean look what happened on Horizon. We showed up too late. It's always too late. And we're not even headed that way, are we?"

"I'm afraid not."

Rolston took a couple deep breaths. "I'm sorry, I'm just..."

"It's understandable, given the circumstances. What can I do for you?"

"I need to talk to her. I want her to go home, to Earth. Right now. I know it's against protocol. I won't tell her anything else, I swear. I'll make up an excuse."

Miranda shook her head. "Operational security prohibits any dispensing any information that could compromise our location, our disposition, or our mission."

"You could send it, couldn't you?" Rolston's eyes and voice were both full of desperation. "Please? A temporary transfer, or some kind of emergency leave or something?"

"The Alliance is making strides towards shoring up colony defenses," Miranda said. "They were too late to save Horizon, but..."

Rolston looked down at the floor. "Yes ma'am."

"How are Rebecca and Sara?"

"Great," Rolston said. "Thank you for asking. I know you're busy."

"No problem," Miranda said. "Is there anything else?"

"No ma'am."

"OK then, dismissed." Miranda said. After the pilot left, she slid the topmost display on her screen aside to reveal an Alliance intelligence estimate of the most likely next targets for the collectors.

New Canton was second on the list.

"Goddamn it," she whispered and flicked the topmost screen back into place.

Jacob waited at the lift with a cup of coffee in his hand, replaying the conversation with Miranda over again in his mind. He never intended to start fights with her, but lately she stopped listening to anything outside of ship matters. If it were anybody else, he'd think it was stress, but Miranda absolutely thrived on pressure. Asking what was wrong only guaranteed a quicker dismissal. He didn't even get it out this time.

Rolston and his friend Patel walked around the corner from Miranda's office towards the crew berthing compartment. "It'll be okay," Patel told Rolston, her hand on his arm. "Rebecca's a smart girl. She'll know what to do."

Rolston stared at the floor as he walked, shaking his head repeatedly. "I just need a couple minutes to talk to her. That's all."

They nodded to Jacob as they passed. He nodded back. "Everything all right?"

"Oh, yeah," Rolston said. "Fine. Just got some bad news from back home."

"Sorry to hear that. Anything I can do?"

Rolston shook his head again and shrugged.

"Tell him," Patel urged.

Garrus stood at his console in the main battery compartment, contemplating his next move. It was a love-hate relationship he had with the ship's scanning and targeting systems. Just when he thought he'd struck a balance between the two, the weapons themselves would lose alignment and drift minutely out of sync, resulting in a thousandth of a degree of error. It wasn't much in the day-to-day world, but for a starship traveling a quarter the speed of light targeting another vessel in a high-deflection shot a thousand kilometers away, that fraction of a degree could mean the difference between a direct hit or devastating miss.

Was it interference from the Tantalus core? Vibrations from the fusion reactor? It might have been power spikes from Gardner's garbage disposal in the mess for all he could tell, but the end result was the same. More calibration. That suited Garrus just fine. When not tending to the weapon systems, he had nothing else to keep him occupied between missions. If things never broke, they might not need him. But left unchecked, the whole system would break down.

The hatch to the Battery opened behind him. Jacob walked in, followed by their shuttle pilot, Rolston. "Gentlemen," he said, bookmarking his spot on the holo display so he could give them his full attention.

"Yo, Garrus," Jacob nodded toward Rolston behind him. "Got a minute?"