Deus Ex Human Revolution is the property of Eidos and Square Enix
Mass Effect is the property of Bioware and Electronic Arts
Mass Effect: Human Revolution
-Chapter 2-
The Shepard Case, Day 1: Aguilar Memorial hospital
Ash was staring out the window, admiring the view of the artificial river that ran throughout the presidium's ring while the cyborg harassed the LT with the standard set of cop questions. She stood there, feeling a little self-conscious since she was in full gear, complete with combat hard-suit and PALS webbing. When she had been told that Commander Shepard, the hero Torfan, had been murdered, she handled it about as well as a marine being told "we're under attack!" and prepared accordingly. Anderson had approved, as he himself thought it prudent to wear a personal shield. Much to her disappointment, he drew the line at assault rifles and grenades. "We're not starting a war," he had said. "Pistols only. That's an order, Chief."
Saren started a fucking war, Ash thought to herself as she watched hovercars fly above the bridge-like building she was standing in. And God Willing, I'll be there to finish it.
And then her ears perked up. The LT was getting a bit agitated.
"What are you trying to say?" the Lieutenant asked, and edge to his voice.
"Just answer the question," said the cop.
"I didn't kill my fiancée,"Alenko insisted, angrily.
Was Jensen trying to start something? Ash's training kicked in, and she sized him up for a fight. She was fairly confident she could take him…but she remembered just how extensively augmented he was. Too many unknowns…although she was fairly confident a bullet to the head would kill him, augmented or not. She thought about deploying her helmet to bring up her HUD and get a scan on his ballistic vest's shields… but the noise might have alerted him.
Ash shook her head.
Stop that.
She had to remind herself that she wasn't in a battlefield. Again. Meanwhile, detective Jensen continued:
"Right, but was she still your fiancée?" Jensen pressed on.
"Of course she was!"
"Really? Then why didn't she have her ring on? And a bouquet of real, all-natural imported flowers? From where I'm standing, it looks like the wedding was off."
Kaidan was surprised, then incredulous. "What flowers?"
"Cherry Blossoms. There's a bouquet of them on the commode in Shepard's room. I assume you bought them?"
"Well you assumed wrong!" Alenko stood up, angry. "If we were fighting, flowers wouldn't be the way I'd make peace! She hated the things!"
"And the ring?"
"I don't know! Maybe one of the med techs took it off for some reason or…or some jackass stole it!"
Jensen said nothing as he looked intently at Alenko's face. Ash, from where she was standing, could swear he was sizing Alenko up…but not for a fight.
"Alright," Jensen finally said. "I believe you." At this, Kaidan began to calm down.
"Look, are you sure? You…didn't find her ring in her room? At all?"
"The forensics tech took a complete inventory of the room, personal effects locker included. It's not on the list. I'm sorry."
"Did the killer steal it?"
"…It's possible. You're certain she had it on when you left her?
"Definitely.'
"Is Shepard's ring a match for yours? Similar engravings, same brand?"
"Yes. There's even a matching microscopic barcode and serial number on the inside."
"I'm going to need a scan of your ring, if you don't mind." Jensen's Omni flared up, and after a few beeps. The scan was done. "Do you have a permanent address on the Citadel?"
Kaidan jut shook his head.
"Then I'm also going to have to ask you to stay in the Citadel and keep in touch with C-Sec."
"I guess we're done?"
"For now, yes," answered Adam as he turned and made his way to the elevator.
~[h+]~
"What an asshole." Adam heard the soldier say to Alenko in a hushed tone. Adam smirked a bit: few knew his hearing was augmented with cochlear implants.
"He was just doing his job, Chief." Alenko answered.
"He doesn't even check out your alibi and then accuses you of killing the Commander? That's a dick move if I ever saw one."
"He didn't accuse me of anything. I…" Kaidan sighed. "…I just jumped the gun on that one."
Adam didn't like it, but he did manipulate Alenko with that one. Adam's CASIE wasn't getting too much out of the lieutenant between an emotional baseline of "depressed" and his avoidance of eye contact. A release of pheromones and an implied accusation of theft shot the readings up, and the micro-expression scans were able to tell Adam this much: Kaidan Alenko didn't steal his wife's ring and was certain that she had it on when he left her, and he didn't bring her those flowers.
That gives me two potential leads to follow: Someone had pried that ring off Shepard's finger just as she was going cold. The killer likes trophies? Maybe, maybe not. Could be an opportunistic thief in the hospital staff. Still, might be worth checking out that pawn shop in Zakera. They never ask for ID, but they have very good memories.
Adam pressed the elevator button.
And then there are the flowers. If what Alenko told me is true, nobody that knew Shepard would get her flowers as a "get well" present. Could be from a new acquaintance. Could be from the killer. Insult? Calling card? Symbolic message? All possible. I need more info.
The doors opened, and a couple of medical techs walked out of the very spacious elevator. Adam got in, pressed the main floor's button and activated his Omni to review the forensics files he had just downloaded from Euridycia. He conjured up the bouquet of cherry blossoms on his holographic display, and several small windows sprang up, orbiting the 3d image. They detailed the genetic make-up of the flowers (which made them genuine), their mass and volume and other, more arcane streams of data in walls of text that barely made any sense to Adam. He sighed: he regretted not being into the whole science thing, sometimes. Still, he understood one thing: there were no prints, not on the petals, not on the branches, and not even on the non-descript paper used to wrap them together. There weren't even any traces of DNA from skin flakes. Someone had been needlessly careful with the whole bouquet.
Either we're dealing with a florist with obsessive compulsive behavior disorder or the one who dropped in the bouquet didn't want to be found.
Adam felt the elevator stop and soon afterwards, the doors slid open. He got out into main lobby, his nose still in his omni's holographs. Curious about the symbolic angle to the flowers (if any), Adam booted up his Codex and ran a search on Cherry Blossoms. A wall of text and a couple of hyperlinks, Adam had learned quite a bit from the flower itself, its cultivation, its culinary applications, and some Japanese concept of appreciating the beauty of things in their impermanence (something the flower apparently symbolized). He was about to familiarize himself with four variants of the Prunus genus of trees before he reminded himself that there just wasn't enough time for a wiki-walk. There was a killer to catch.
Also, he was just standing there, and people were beginning to stare. A C-sec sentry posted near the elevator included.
"Jensen?" asked the Turian officer. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Adam answered, a little embarrassed. He started towards the exit.
Impermanence. Beauty. Some kind of sick fetish for killing beautiful young women before they got old? A message? A taunt? Shepard was of Japanese descent: if anyone knew what the flowers were supposed to represent, it would have been her (assuming she kept up with her cultural origins). Then again, she's dead, so what's the point?
There was, interestingly, another fact about cherry blossoms that caught Adam's attention: They were much rarer on earth than he had previously thought. Because to ecological damage on Earth due to the nuclear conflicts that erupted shortly after the Collapse, the only places where Cherry Blossoms still bloomed on Earth were the Botanical Gardens in Montreal and Queen Elizabeth Park in Vancouver. Up until 2170, Mindoir cultivated Hill Cherrytrees as part of an experiment. Only one remained there, serving as a memorial.
If anything proved that the flowers were significant, if not to this case, that was it: importing common flowers was expensive due to the costs of keeping them fresh while they sit for days or even weeks in a warehouse while they're being processed in customs (not to mention the costs of shipping). Florists that import their goods have to charge quite a sum for their wares to make a profit.
But rare flowers that decay in no time at all? The costs of importing would be enormous! Who would bother to pay?
To answer his question, Adam started a C-web search for any flower shop that sold cherry blossoms. He didn't think he'd have a big list: anyone that dealt in rare imported flowers would be rich enough to set up in the Presidium, where the rich clientele that could afford it would be. Small market, that.
As expected, he only got four hits. All of them were for stores which sold plastic replicas of the blossoms. None of them sold the real deal.
Well, that puts a damper on things.
Before Adam could pursue this further, something caught his attention. A young Alliance marine in his sailor's uniform (complete with a navy blue beret) was arguing with an Asari receptionist. She was far more interested in typing on her computer than listening to his slightly nasal voice, something that was no doubt frustrating him a great deal.
"You must have seen something out of the ordinary," said the marine. He was trying to sound confident, but there was a nervous edge to his voice. Adam smirked a little: he saw this happen all the time when kids barely out of high school tried to talk to a real live Asari for the very first time.
"You see everything coming through that door," said the receptionist, "from hanar with venereal diseases to elcor suffering from bipolar disorder. After a while, it all just kind of blended into my definition of ordinary. So, once again: No, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary."
The marine deflated a bit, but he looked like he wasn't quite ready to give up. "Well, did you see anyone that looked like a killer, or out to kill someone?"
Is this kid for real?
Not even looking up from her laptop, the receptionist shot back. "You know the funny thing is about killers? I hear they look just like you and me! If they didn't, we wouldn't need the police to find them and put them away, now would we?"
Adam had to agree.
The receptionist's vidphone rang. A quick glance at it, and she fingered her headset.
"Look, Lieutenant, I have to take this. Unless you have a medical emergency or an appointment, I can't help you."
The marine was indignant. "Hey! Don't shut me out!" he demanded. Of course, she already had and was greeting the caller with practiced courtesy. "Aguilar Memorial Hospital, how may I help you?" she said, completely ignoring the young marine. Adam thought it wise to get the kid's attention before he did something stupid and/or embarrassing. He walked besides the young marine and cleared his throat.
"Is there a problem here?"
~[h+]~
Corporal Richard L Jenkins, Alliance Marine, turned to his right in the direction of a smoker's voice, to find himself face to face with a tall human in a blue leather longcoat (were those flowers printed on the shoulders?) staring down at him from behind dark, golden mirror shades that seemed glued to his skin. He was imposing: broad shouldered and easily fifteen centimeters taller than Jenkins himself. Jenkins hated to admit, but he was feeling a little intimidated.
Damned if he was going to show it, though. He had survived Eden Prime and fought cyber zombies and killer robots. He wasn't going to be spooked by some basketball player in a candy-ass looking coat! He had a mission to accomplish!
"Alliance business. Nothing that should concern you, citizen." Jenkins had put on his best 'Gallant Soldier' impression. Now, the guy would move along and…
"Oh?" exclaimed the man. "I hope it's nothing too serious, Mister…?"
He's not buying it. Quick! Sound impressive and authoritative!
"I'm Lieutenant Richard…B. Riddick."
Don't look at my chevrons don't look at my chevrons
'Riddick' continued: "I'm here to investigate the death of a fellow Alliance Marine."
That ought to scare him a little.
The bespectacled man didn't flinch, not even a little. "Ah, so that's what the commotion on the bridge section was about! But I thought C-Sec was already taking care of that?"
'Riddick' snorted, his utter contempt for the glorified mall cops all too apparent. "Oh, this is way out of C-Sec's league." He took a quick, nervous glance towards the hospital's entrance: Captain Anderson and Senator Udina were still arguing outside.
"…Is that so?"
"Yeah, our prime suspect, Saren Arterius? The guy behind the attack Eden Prime? Well, he's our main suspect in this case. But the Council wanted C-Sec to dig up evidence against him, and since they're too damn stupid to pour pee they botched the investigation and now the rest of the Spectres won't move against him. Heh, big surprise, right?"
"Right, so…Now the Alliance has taken it on itself to bring Saren to Justice, is that it?"
"Exactly. Now, if you'll please move along? This woman definitely knows more than she lets on." And with that, Lieutenant Richard B. Riddick dismissed the man and got back to his mission.
Then, Corporal Richard L. Jenkins felt an iron grip on his right shoulder and he was spun, finding himself suddenly stared down at by a pair of yellow-green, metallic eyes. The pain in his shoulder made him wince. The stare made him gulp a little.
"Can I just say a few things?" said the tall man. "First, two chevrons on your shoulder doesn't make you a Lieutenant, Corporal. Second, I saw those movies too, Vin. Third, I'm guessing that the man in the officer's uniform talking to Udina just outside is your superior and that he hasn't got an inkling as to your so-called mission. And fourth…
The man parted his coat with his right hand, revealing a silvery C-Sec detective's badge.
"Citadel Law is pretty clear on unauthorized civilian and military interference in C-Sec investigations, regardless of intent to assist or hinder. Penalty's a four hundred thousand credit fine and 3 days in jail. You'll be in great company: over the past week we busted a Krogan arms dealer, a crazed biotic junkie responsible for exposing the Shao Yong building to the black, and Matriarch Eneles. You'll like her. Well, maybe not, but she'll definitely like you. She's got this thing for wearing fine human skin."
And with that, the detective let Jenkins go.
"Is there a problem here?" asked Captain Anderson. Jenkins was relieved, then remembered protocol and quickly saluted.
The detective answered quickly. "The corporal here falsely claimed to be an Alliance Military CO tasked with investigating a murder under C-sec jurisdiction. I'm not one hundred percent familiar with Alliance military regs but I'm sure they don't look kindly on a grunt pretending to be an lieutenant and harassing civilians under false pretenses…"
Anderson cast a withering glare at Jenkins, who stammered: "I-I was just trying to help! Find enough intel to catch the killer!"
"So you don't deny it?" asked the Captain.
"Well…no?"
"Son?" asked Anderson, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you or have even been an MP? Have you had any law enforcement training of any kind?"
"…No sir."
Udina walked up behind Anderson at that very moment. "Now, now, he may not have been an MP but surely such a clever young man such as this must be well on his way to joining the JAG? To help C-Sec with Alliance legal issues, surely?"
"No sir…I'm not…I'm not with JAG." Jenkins was utterly crushed. Only now was he beginning to realize just how out of his depth he was, and what a fool he had made of himself.
"Wonderful," Udina's voice was dripping with scorn. "Anderson, would you like to take care of this or should we let the detective take corporal Jenkins to his 'accommodations' for the night?"
~[h+]~
"I'll take care of this," stated Anderson with a cold edge of anger to his voice. "Corporal, come with me."
"Good," said Udina. "Detective Jensen, if I could have a word with you?"
With Jenkins in tow, Anderson made his way towards the elevator.
"Jenkins, what part of 'stay with lieutenant Alenko' did you not understand?"
"I err, I understood clearly, sir."
"Did the lieutenant dismiss you?"
"No, sir."
"Then why did you disobey my order?" the captain asked as they reached the elevator. He pressed the call button.
"Well-"
"And did some Admiral come in out of the blue and give you a field promotion, corporal? Or is it lieutenant?"
Jenkins was about to say something, but Anderson wasn't quite done.
"Do you know how severely the brass punishes grunts that impersonate officers? We're not just talking about a few days in the brig, here. You're looking at a permanent black mark on your record! You'll be on shit list of every commander in the fleet! You'll be lucky to even hold a gun ever again instead of a mop."
To Anderson's surprise, Jenkins suddenly grew his spine back: "I don't mind holding a mop for the rest of my life if it means helping catching Saren, sir!"
"And how in the hell did you plan to accomplish that from the comfort of a C-sec cell?"
"I don't know! I didn't think that far ahead but-"
"-but what, corporal?"
"Shepard's dead, sir! Dead!"
Anderson had been told. He had been told when he woke up this morning from the mouth of Udina just this morning. He heard it from Kaidan, who confirmed seeing the body over the phone. And hearing for a third time from Jenkins did little to blunt the shock of it.
"You should have seen her on Eden Prime," Jenkins continued. "When those Geth scout drones came out of nowhere and she was caught in the open, I thought it was over! But then she conjures up a wall of blue fire held together by will and rage and she practically dared everything and everyone to try and kill her. Geth Troopers, Rocket Drones, those…things from the spikes? Nothing stopped her, Nothing! Everything that stood in her way died! She survived that, she survived Torfan, she survived Mindoir! If anyone could have brought Saren to justice, it would have been her! No one else!"
Jenkins tried to hold back his tears, but was failing.
"And now she's dead! Th-they put th-that poison in her and then someone just sticks a knife in her heart while she sleeps? I-I can't accept that, sir! I can't! I have to do something!" Jenkins started to weep. "Anything! I have to make this-" he whimpered. "I have to make this right!"
Anderson knew exactly what Jenkins was going through. Had expected it, in fact. Young, talented soldiers still maintained the delusion of invincibility and suicidal overconfidence of their teenage years. That delusion was often shattered by a healthy dose of the reality of war, and contrary to what the vids liked to portray, war was not glorious. At best it was organized slaughter. At worst it was guts, screaming and all kinds of disturbing behavior. Eden Prime wasn't the worst, but it was close.
But, as Shepard put it: "That boy is such a puppy! He hangs on to my every word like it was gospel and follows me around whenever he's awake! It's adorable."
As a child, Jenkins had lost his father to disease, a factor in his intense desire for a mentor and hero figure both, and he had quickly latched on to Shepard as such. It was a role she was, to Anderson's surprise, quite willing fulfill. Anderson was concerned, however, when the young marine quickly revealed to have a somewhat unrealistic and black and white worldview built up by being virtually raised on cartoons. When Saren had taken on the role of the Bad Guy, Jenkins spirits had gone up immensely: Shepard would fight Saren. She would win. The Bad Guy would die, and all would be right in the galaxy. After seeing his home burn, Jenkins was quite happy the idea of being at her side when she inevitably won.
Eden Prime had been a loss. It could have been so much worse, but it hadn't been like a victory (as Jenkins would have defined it). Eden Prime had wounded Jenkins' confidence, and Shepard's death had turned his world upside down: the Hero died. The Bad Guy won. There was no glorious battle. Only a massacre, burnt fields, shattered homes, and a cheap murder. Nothing would ever be the same for Jenkins.
"Am I suspended, sir?"
"…I won't report this to the brass, son. I understand why you did it, and I'm glad you didn't do anything rash. But Jenkins? Remember what Shepard said?"
"…You're not alone in this."
"That's right, son." Anderson put his hand on Jenkin's shoulder. You're not alone in this. You didn't have to go off on your own like that. And we're not taking this lying down, I promise you. Sooner or later we ARE going after Saren, and when we do you're going to be there. Alenko will be there. And God willing, I'm going to be there too. That's a promise." It was what Jenkins needed to hear, and relief had washed over the young marine quickly.
Of course, he couldn't quite leave Jenkins' lack of common sense unpunished, he would order him back on the ship and-
Ding.
The elevator doors opened. Inside it were four occupants: Lieutenant Alenko, Gunnery Chief Williams, an Asari forensics tech and a Turian C-Sec officer. They were surrounding a morgue slab. On the slab was something in the shape of a body, covered in a white sheet.
Anderson could vaguely hear the tech apologize, that they were headed down to the morgue. The chief saluted quietly. The lieutenant said nothing.
Anderson approached the slab; his ears dull to noise and voice. He reached out to the shape, where the head ought to be. He thought he heard the tech protest, but he didn't care. He pulled the sheet back, revealing the cold, pale face of Shepard.
Shepard was dead. He had been told. Now he saw.
For a moment, he was back on Mindoir. He was back in that greenhouse. That teenage girl with the knife, sitting in a corner in a fetal position, her lightly freckled face covered by her knees. Make them pay. Two dead batarians lay nearby. Their eyes were stabbed out, their guts were spilled. A turian corpse was outside, his chest caved in, his skin riddled with shards of glass. All three died in agony.
Her clothes were ripped. Make them pay.
Make them pay. She was rocking back and forth. Make them pay, she said. Over and over and over again. Like a mantra. A prayer.
Make them pay.
He put down his gun. He removed his helmet. "Easy there," he had reassured her. "It's okay. It's over."
He barely registered to her: "I have to make them pay."
"I know, sweetheart. But it's over. They're all dead." He reached out to her. "Here, take my hand…"
"You can't help me. I have to make them pay. They all deserve to pay."
"Sir?" Jenkins prodded, and Anderson mind was back in the elevator, looking at Shepard, and her blank, dead stare. He reached out. Don't tamper with the body, his mind had told him, but he couldn't resist the urge to restore some semblance of his former pupil's dignity. The tech protested. He didn't care. He gently closed Shepard's eyes, and Jenkins respectfully removed his beret. Kaidan simply watched.
Soak it in, Anderson told himself. Remember that Saren is responsible for this. And it's your calling to put a bullet in his skull and end his miserable shit stain of a life.
"We will make him pay, Jun."
~[h+]~
CODEX ENTRY: CASIE ver 2.3
The CASIE, or Computer Assisted Social Interaction Enhancer, was a cranial implant that made use of the user's vision and hearing to analyze another human being for the purpose of social interaction, providing useful data about their personality in order to better psychologically and emotionally manipulate them. Upgrades to the system include a pheromone emitting system.
In 2028, the 2.3 update supported micro expression detection, granting the user the ability to detect deception during high stakes negotiations or interrogations. This made the CASIE extremely invaluable to police enforcement and diplomats, but also to kidnappers and conmen. The device was heavily regulated shortly after its release to the public market. By 2052, only law enforcement and counter-intelligence agencies could legally have their agents implanted with the augmentation.
After the Collapse, the CASIE implant was succeeded by the VK series of scanners. The whole device can be stored in a small suitcase, but a warrant is required for it to be used in police interrogations.
Author's notes. I was planning on making this chapter longer, but then I decided that this was a pretty good point to stop for now. Plus, it took me way too long to write this. I hate to say it, but this was incredibly difficult to write. My head keeps moving ahead in the story, and I couldn't focus on the "here and now" of his chapter. I dream of cyborg kung-fu action and gunfights and epic duels, but none of that belongs in this chapter.
Well, here we've had a look into Adam's thought processes. Youtube critics of the Human Revolution storyline have pointed out Adam's leaps of logic that advanced the plot, and while I can't argue that they're wrong, I like to think that Adam thinks a little unconventionally. I mean, really? Flowers? Come on. Here he also demonstrates that he has little patience for idiots getting in his way.
Oh yeah, Jenkins' alive. Why? I never really liked it when the game took control away from me just to service drama. Shepard's such a badass but s/he sends the grunt in forward to be cannon fodder? Would a Vanguard do that? I personally don't think so. Sure, it's probably military protocol, but still…
Jenkins also serves as a personification of the emotional and psychological repercussions of Shepard's death from the perspective of, say, a fan, along with Anderson's fatherly perspective.. Kaidan is just too stoic for the job and Ashley barely knew the woman.
Oh, and speaking of military protocol, I actually have no idea what the real-life punishment is for a NCO pretending to be a CO, but I imagine it would be more severe than depicted here.