Seven: Convergence

Shepard stood over the tactical hologram, staring down at it and periodically sniffing the steam that arose from her coffee mug. Sometimes, the almost tactical sensation of inhaling the biting fragrance was better than drinking it.

"Commander," Joker's voice filtered through to her from the cockpit by way of the comm system. "We've arrived at the rendezvous point. Stealth systems are engaged and running within normal parameters."

"Thank you, Joker."

Normally, the holograph in the middle of CIC displayed either the ship's status or the navigational map, but now it was displaying a tactical readout of the local space. The Normandy's position was a small blue dot, labelled appropriately, the rest of the system depicted as orange-tinted spheres with names and classification data attached as labels that Shepard could expand if she so chose, but for now she left them closed. She was more interested in looking at an overview of the situation.

A day had passed since Miranda, Thane and Garrus had returned from Omega with details of a rendezvous with a batarian trading ship. Shepard had the Normandy head to the Ophan system early so as to lie in wait, just in case anyone untoward had gotten word of their situation (perhaps through a scan of the Omega 4 relay, and the damaged ship that had returned through it before limping off the grid). Shepard was fairly certain that her paranoia was just that, paranoia, but she didn't survive the Collectors just to be taken out by a trigger-happy Cerberus cell.

"I am detecting an anomaly," EDI reported, and the hologram shifted, showing a section of the star system on the far side of the third planet.

"I need something a little more specific than 'there's something odd', EDI," Shepard said, frowning at the new hologram.

It wasn't EDI's fault, really. She was only able to say what her sensors were telling her. Unlike a VI, she was able to make intuitive leaps regarding the conclusions she drew from that data, but Shepard was slowly learning that although EDI was highly intelligent, possessing a wealth of knowledge greater than any human could hope to accumulate in a single lifetime, her conclusions were occasionally simplistic, a mark of her inexperience. She had no doubt that, in time, EDI would eclipse them all, but for now, human instinct occasionally trumped EDI's understanding of a situation.

"Interference from the nearby Mutara nebula is obscuring accurate readings," EDI said, disapprovingly, as if Shepard had forgotten exactly why they'd picked this particular system for the rendezvous point. "I am detecting a large metallic object. I would speculate that it is a ship, but it is not broadcasting any transponder."

Jacob had left the armoury, and was standing at one of the stations ranged at the teardrop shaped console set around the galaxy map. He looked up as EDI spoke and frowned. "The freighter we were scheduled to rendezvous with?"

Shepard frowned at the map. "Joker, bring us around the planet and into visual range. Keep us stealthed. EDI, gather as much data as possible without being detected."

Jacob scowled at the holodisplay, absently stroking his chin. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"If it's a ship, why aren't they broadcasting an identifier?" Shepard said, watching as the blue symbol representing the Normandy started to move.

"We're not," Jacob pointed out.

Shepard grinned at him, the expression a little wolfish and rendered eerie by the translucent hologram that hung between them. "We have something to hide. Question is, what are they hiding?"

She said nothing further, simply sipping silently at her coffee as the ship changed position, coming closer to the "anomaly" so that EDI could scan it more thoroughly. For a long pause, there was nothing but the hum of machinery and the gentle background murmur of crew conversation.

"According to my scans," EDI reported, eventually, "The object is in fact two ships, docked. Neither is ship is broadcasting an IFF signal, but from their silhouettes, one is an asari vessel, the other a freighter of indeterminate origin. I would assume it to be the freighter we were due to meet."

Jacob pulled a face. "I'm guessing the asari are pirates," he said, frowning at the console in front of him, "No IFF, no ident string. Lucked on the freighter, apparently alone, and thought they'd score some easy money."

Shepard leaned forward, staring at the hologram, mind going through possibilities. What might be possible? What might be probable? What outcomes could arise from each course of action? It only took a moment, then, her mind made up, she straightened and barked, "Action stations!"

EDI's voice rang out across all decks, accompanied by an alarm. "Action stations! Action stations! All hands report to action stations. Assume condition bravo. Action stations! Action stations!"

"Joker," Shepard said, knowing that her voice was being piped to the entire CIC from her position at the galaxy map, "Take us into weapons range."

"Aye-aye, Commander."

Personnel were running to their stations. The elevator opened to disgorge damage-control personnel and dock sentries, who moved forward armoured and armed, to guard the airlock. Miranda was right behind all of them, heels clicking loudly as she hurried onto the deck.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded, staring around the deck in confusion.

"Someone's decided to help themselves to our cargo," Jacob said dryly, when Shepard didn't answer.

Miranda settled herself at the opposite station to Jacob, to Shepard's right. "Now that's just rude."

Shepard handed her coffee over to Yeoman Edwards, who hurried to get rid of it, and leaned forward, resting her hands on the railing separating her from the galaxy map.

"In weapon's range, Commander."

Shepard's mouth twisted slightly in amused contemplation of what the reaction of asari ship's crew might be. "Light us up, let them know we're here."

"Dropping stealth," EDI reported. "Weapons hot."

"A ship appearing out of nowhere, breathing down their neck," Miranda said, eyeing her console. "That'll give them a good scare."

"That's the idea," Shepard said, staring intently at the hologram, waiting for a reaction from the other ships.

"Not that we're in any condition for a fight," Miranda said, her fingers curling around the console's edge. Her words were tart. "We might give them a good laugh before they finish the job the Collectors started on our hull ruptures."

She was clearly irritated by Shepard's refusal to show any concern for the situation. Shepard gave her second in command a patient look. "If they were spoiling for a fight, they'd be on more populated trade routes."

"The asari ship has decoupled from the freighter." EDI manipulated the hologram, updating it to depict the new information.

"They've blown the airlock seal," Jacob reported, staring at his console. "The freighter's venting atmosphere."

"No kinetic barriers?" Shepard asked.

"The freighter has lost all power," Jacob said, shaking his head.

EDI said, "The asari ship is coming about. Its FTL drive output is increasing."

"They're going to run for it," Miranda said, and looked up at Shepard. "Do we follow them?"

Shepard thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. "No, there's no point. Besides, we need to see if anyone survived the attack on the freighter. Track their course as far as possible."

"Of course, they could be turning to attack," Jacob pointed out.

Shepard said nothing, only smiling faintly and folding her arms, her eyes fixed intently on the tactical hologram. Miranda grit her teeth, reminding herself that Shepard was a skilled commander and an experienced tactician, and that there was no reason to doubt her, but hadn't Shepard herself said that they needed to complete repairs before they got into a firefight-

The asari ship spun on its thrusters, changing course to a new vector. Then the blue dot vanished, leaving only a holographic line to show where it was heading. The asari ship had jumped to FTL.

Miranda let out a breath she didn't even realise she'd been holding.

Shepard just nodded, as if everything had proceeded exactly as foreseen. Miranda felt a miniscule amount of doubt; Shepard wouldn't have called for action stations if she'd been totally convinced that the asari ship would flee. The outcome was not, however, unappreciated.

"Stand down action stations," Shepard said, and, as EDI repeated the order via shipwide, "EDI, have Garrus, Grunt and Legion meet me at the forward airlock, geared up and ready."

"Aye, Commander."

Power had comprehensively failed throughout the freighter. If Shepard were to guess, she would have said that someone, probably the pirates when they boarded, had tripped the emergency drive shutdown. Most people didn't do that unless there was no other option; if you weren't within communications range of help when you hit the switch, you could be in trouble, as forcing a rapid shutdown could completely fry the engines and prevent them restarting.

Most of the main deck's air had vented when the pirates pulled away, but even without computer control to throw up kinetic barriers to keep the air in, the unpowered mechanical systems had reacted to the vacuum by dropping the pressure doors. It took a few judiciously placed portable barrier generators and Legion's skills to force the doors to open, letting them inside the ship properly. Grunt took the lead, shotgun cradled in his hands, just in case any of the pirates had been left behind. When they weren't ambushed after reaching the bridge, he seemed almost disappointed.

"Legion," Shepard said, "See if you can reconnect the ship's auxiliary batteries, get these consoles up and running. Grunt, Garrus, check out the rest of the ship. See if anything's out of the ordinary."

Garrus nodded, and Grunt made a sound of acknowledgement, the two of them making their way into the darkened corridors illuminated only by the light from Garrus' omnitool. By the time that Shepard turned around, Legion had already prised off a panel underneath the navigation console, and had folded himself into an improbably shape to access the hardware inside. Shepard looked around the bridge while he worked.

She would have expected a ship set upon by pirates to show signs of combat; pitting on walls where ricochet and missed rounds had hit, discarded heat sinks on the ground. She'd seen the aftermath of such attacks several times during her tenure in the Alliance.

That was something she was still getting used to, thinking of the Alliance, her only life since escaping Earth, as a time of her life that was over. Sometimes she tried not to think about it too hard.

There was a click, and dim emergency lighting came on, providing only just enough light to see by. Shepard's suit's VI was helpfully increasing the contrast projected onto her faceplate, letting her see better than she could have with the naked eye.

Legion had extracted itself and was working at the navigation console proper. "Power restored."

Shepard nodded, although Legion would neither notice nor care about the engines. "What hit the ship? I didn't see any hull-scoring on approach. Nothing that looked like there'd been an exchange of fire. Batarians wouldn't go quietly."

Legion said nothing, hands moving over the consoles. Finally, it turned its head towards her. "We have retrieved external hull visual data. A damage control assessment camera was pointing at the asari ship when the freighter was attacked."

"Show me."

It was a low resolution image. Hull cameras were only designed to give engineers inside the ships an idea of the sort of punishment their hulls might have taken after running into an asteroid or getting into a battle. They had a limited field of view, and their magnification was awful, but fortune had meant that this particular camera had a clear shot of the asari ship as it approached, running lights dark, and fired... something... at the freighter. Seconds later, the camera went dead.

"What was that?" Shepard asked. She'd never seen anything like it before. It had appeared as little more than an elongated white dart that had vanished out of shot quickly, moments before the footage ended.

"Unknown. Further analysis of visual data will be required."

"Shepard. We're at the cargo hold entryway, deck three. Looks like the pirates were trying to burn through when we interrupted them. We've detected a weak but active signal inside. Might want to get down here." Garrus' words were clipped, his voice brusque and business-like.

"On my way," Shepard said, into her suit's com. "You good here, Legion?"

"We will continue working on extracting recent log entries and sensor data, Shepard-Commander," Legion said, inclining its head slightly in acknowledgement.

Shepard followed data uploaded to her HUD by EDI: a map of the ship's decks and a line showing the shortest path to get to Garrus and Grunt's location. She saw no weapons fire scarring the walls at any point along the way. The asari had clearly managed to disable the crew, without a struggle.

Shepard didn't know of any weapon that could disable a ship and its crew in one hit. On the other hand, she'd been out of the loop for two years, and while she had been playing catch-up in her spare time, it was possible she might have missed technological developments in her reading.

Garrus and Grunt were waiting for her at the entrance to the cargo level. Or rather, Grunt was waiting, looking bored, flicking the safety on and off on his shotgun. Garrus was kneeling next to an open access panel, his omnitool lit.

"Well?" Shepard prompted.

"The cargo areas went into complete lockdown when the power died, some kind of emergency security mechanism, I'm guessing." Garrus' expression couldn't be seen behind his helmet, but Shepard could hear the scowling in his voice. "I'm trying to re-pressurise the bay and override the locks."

"I can get Legion down to help."

Garrus sniffed. "I can do it, Commander."

Shepard stifled a smile, even though it was as invisible as Garrus' frown. She had clearly insulted him a little. She was sure that he wouldn't hold it against her.

"We could just blow it up," Grunt said, impatiently.

"And risk damaging whatever was inside? The pirates certainly weren't keen to do so. They were the ones who pulled this panel off." Garrus tilted his head to indicate the bulkhead panel on the floor. Now Shepard looked closely, it had clearly been burned off the wall. There was a solid thunk as Garrus spoke that reverberated through the air. Shepard could feel the vibration through the deck under her feet.

The door unsealed, opening a few inches. The lockdown had clearly disabled the automatic doors, leaving an awful lot of mass between them and the cargo bay.

Grunt just nodded and holstered his shotgun, stepping forward and bracing himself to push. Shepard went forward as well, standing facing the krogan, fingers tightly wrapped around the edge of the door. Between Grunt's raw physical power, and her cybernetic augmentations, the door didn't stand a chance. With a squeal of metal-against-metal the door slid back, opening up into an unlit, dark space.

"I got the air back in here," Garrus said, "But the lighting's a no go."

"Figures," Shepard muttered, and flicked her omnitool open, setting it to provide illumination. Light flared out in front of her wherever she moved her arm.

The cargo hold was densely packed with crates and Shepard could at least take solace in the fact that all the cargo they'd bartered for was apparently present and still accounted for. It wasn't worth the freighter crew's lives though, and she swallowed anger down into the pit of her stomach. Pursuing pirates wasn't her job, and this was the Terminus Systems. Piracy was rampant, as was slave trading. No matter how much she might hate it, the freighter crew was either dead or being prepared for sale even as they investigated what had happened to them.

She wanted to follow them, though. Slavery wasn't right, and neither was attacking an unsuspecting ship on a trading run.

"At least we got what we paid for," Garrus said, unknowingly echoing her thoughts.

"We hadn't made payment yet," Shepard said, quietly.

Grunt snorted. "Free stuff. Nice."

Shepard shot him a dark look, but said nothing. Apparently krogan couldn't read human expressions that well, as he said nothing. "You said you detected a signal in here," she said to Garrus.

Garrus raised his omnitool, examining the readouts. "This way," he said, pointing across the cargo bay, in between the stacks of crates. "Looks like a hardsuit. Maybe a survivor?"

"Lead the way," Shepard said, holding up her omnitool to serve as a searchlight.

The cargo bay wasn't large, but as a result, the containers were fairly tightly packed, with just enough space for the average humanoid to walk between the stacks, which went most of the way to the ceiling. It was more awkward than anything for Garrus to lead the way, and Grunt was quite vocal about his dislike for the cramped conditions. More than once she heard the scrape of his armour against crate as he was forced to shoulder them out of the way where they were packed slightly too tightly. When Garrus stopped, she nearly tripped over him.

"Commander!" Garrus crouched down next to what Shepard realised was a slumped and suited body lying on the cargo hold floor. Shepard went down to one knee next to the body, examining it as carefully as she could in the low light.

"Is he dead?" asked Grunt, sounding only mildly curious.

The suit's helmet was all encompassing, hiding any hint of identity. All that Shepard could gather was that, presuming that whoever was inside conformed to the standard Humanoid model, the occupant was male. She raised her omnitool, hooking it up to the suit's VI. It was sluggish and unresponsive, but it reported a lifesign inside, weak but there. The air in the cargo bay was still thin, and Shepard didn't want to risk him by pulling off his helmet and suffocating him.

"Get him to Chakwas," she ordered, "We're not going to find out what happened here if he dies."

Grunt bobbed his head in acknowledgement, picking up the body and slinging it over his shoulder. Garrus looked at her, his suit lit eerily by her omnitool. "He's the only survivor," he said. "We didn't find any sign of anyone else."

Shepard nodded. "We'll get a crew over to remove the cargo." She sighed, looking around the room and shaking her head. "Damn. They shouldn't have gotten set on by pirates, not this far off the main trade routes."

"Space is unforgiving," Garrus pointed out. "We're just lucky it wasn't us."

Shepard was rather keen to learn the identity of their guest. After they returned to the ship, and most of the crew was dispatched to transfer cargo from the freighter to the Normandy, Shepard spent only a few minutes in her quarters before she returned to the crew level in her captain's uniform, her black and white tunic thrown over her arm as she smoothed out her undershirt. Garrus and Thane were in the mess hall when she arrived, both casting glances over towards the medical bay. The windows had been greyed out for privacy, offering no clues as to what lay inside.

"Damndest thing," Garrus was musing to Thane as she approached, "Not a single sign of a fight anywhere, apart from the fact that the ship was disabled and the pirates were trying to burn through sealed doors."

Thane considered that for a moment. "Gas, perhaps? It would have killed or disabled the crew."

"Fast enough that none of them could get to their emergency gear? And shutting down the ship would have shut down the life support, stopped the spread of gas."

Shepard came up to the pair of them, Garrus glanced at her as he spoke, including her in their discussion.

"If they took the crew instead of killing them, it points to slavers." Thane rolled his drink around in his mug. It was thick and slightly gelatinous, and smelled metallic and revolting. "Pirate activity is nothing new in this region. We were undoubtedly fortunate that they chose not to attack when we came across them."

"We were an unknown force running weapons hot that appeared on their scanners apparently out of nowhere. They weren't going to attack us." Shepard spoke with utter confidence as she shook out her tunic and pulled it on.

"Glad to know you were so assured of our success," Garrus said, dryly.

Shepard looked at him, closing one eye. "Better than just assured. I was right."

"Medical to Commander Shepard."

Shepard glanced to the side, a habit most people with implants managed to acquire. She was so used to the sound of voices coming from her right hand side that she tilted her head in that direction even when the voice came over the shipwide system. "Yes, Doctor?"

"Commander, you should probably come down here." Chakwas never sounded anything less than professional and unruffled, but the hesitation was still audible.

"Is our guest awake?" Shepard turned her head towards the medical bay, but the windows were still opaque. Chakwas probably didn't know she was directly outside.

"No..." This time Chakwas paused, as if she didn't know quite what to say. "I believe it best for you to come to medical as soon as possible."

Shepard frowned, but smoothed her fingers over the seals of her tunic, finishing making herself presentable. "On my way, Doctor."

She murmured a quick, "Excuse me," at the pair of them. Garrus watched her as she went, somewhat curious about what had so perturbed Chakwas.

Shepard froze on the threshold of the medical bay. From across the mess hall, Garrus could see her entire body stiffen. As he watched, her skin pigmentation changed, becoming a shade greyer. He was wondering what exactly that fascinating change signified when she spun on her heel and strode across the room to Crewman Venn, who was armed and wearing full armour, one of the two on deck who had guard duty that shift. They weren't officially 'guarding' anything, but Shepard had instituted guard shifts after one-too-many arguments between specialists that had run the risk of escalating.

"Sidearm!" Shepard snapped, standing in front of him and holding her hand out.

Crewman Venn blinked, nonplussed, but didn't hesitate to take the pistol from his waist and hand it over to his Commander. Shepard nodded sharply, spun on her heel, and strode in the direction of the infirmary.

"Should we follow her?" Garrus asked.

Thane watched her go, and shook his head. "I would not wish to stand between her and her destination."

"Right," Garrus drawled, "That would be bad."

Doctor Chakwas barely glanced at Shepard as the Commander, with a fierce expression on her face that might as well have been carved out of duratanium, strode into the medical bay, pistol in hand. She had realised that this was going to happen the moment she'd removed her patient's helmet. The Cerberus corpsman hadn't known the reason why Chakwas had hurriedly dismissed her, only confused as to her superior's sudden discomfort. It had taken several moments of going through the familiar motions of treatment for her to calm down enough that she knew her voice wouldn't give anything away when she called Shepard. By the time her superior arrived, she had even regained some of her humour.

"I suppose if you're going to shoot someone, this is as good a place as any to do it," she said, dryly.

Shepard didn't respond to the joke, but then Chakwas really hadn't expected her to.

"Have you pulled his amp?"

Chakwas looked down at the small dish in her hands, which she'd just been sealing shut as Shepard walked in. Inside was a thin piece of what looked like simple metal, to the naked eye. It was needle-thin, barely a millimetre in diameter, and an inch in length. Biotic amps were very unassuming to look at. They weren't easy to remove or insert, the device too fiddly, the port usually hidden under the hair at the base of the skull, and the risk of the amp not being correctly seated meant that it was left to medical professionals to fit. It wasn't difficult, by any means. It was a job any qualified nurse could do, but the need to maintain a sterile field prevented casual removal. As such, most biotics lived with amps permanently connected, their brains becoming accustomed to the heightened buzz provided by the amp.

Kaidan had once told Chakwas, during an amp upgrade, that the brief period where an amp was gone was like suddenly loosing functionality in all his senses at once. Everything felt duller, he'd told her, without colour or texture.

She wondered what it would feel like to him to have it gone now, combined with the after-effects of being electrocuted. He lay quiet and slightly ashen on the bed, ignorant of the words being exchanged over his head.

"Yes," she said, neutrally. "Would you like to know how he's doing otherwise?"

Shepard scowled, and looked like she was about to tell Chakwas not to bother, so the Doctor plunged ahead, not giving her commander a chance to speak.

"He was suffering from an extended period on low oxygen," she said, carefully setting the dish aside and folding her arms as she approached Shepard. "No permanent damage due to that. He was rendered unconscious, however, by what his suit recorded as a powerful electrical charge of unknown origin. I've passed the logs onto Legion and Tali to see what they can make of it."

Shepard frowned. "Electrical?"

"Some sort of highly energetic waveform," Chakwas amended. "Or at least, that's what Tali muttered as she wandered out of the door, nose buried in her omnitool. I'm afraid it's a little out of my area of expertise."

She looked at the pistol that Shepard was still holding tightly and frowned. "Commander, you're aware that I cannot allow any harm to come to a patient in my care."

Shepard's expression wasn't angry, or sad, or flinty. It was merely flat, and utterly blank. Chakwas reminded herself that she'd faced ground combat, treating men who screamed and were bleeding out under her hands even as their comrades fought on around them, and that this woman decades her junior had no business trying to intimidate her. She reminded herself of that several times.

"Going to try and stop me, Doctor?" Shepard finally said.

"You'd just shoot me, if you were serious." Doctor Chakwas unfolded her arms and tilted her head. "But I know you, I know him, and more importantly, I know what it means when two officers known for spending a lot of time together talking suddenly come to my door within twenty four hours of each other asking to have their contraceptive implants checked."

Shepard licked her lips briefly, and couldn't meet Chakwas' gaze for a moment. "That obvious, huh?"

"Not really," Chakwas said, "Unless you're the Chief Medical Officer."

Shepard looked at Kaidan Alenko, unconscious and silent on the bed. "Can you wake him?"

"Yes. Any time."

"Do it. Then take a walk."

Chakwas pursed her lips, taking the vial of mild stimulant she'd prepared the moment she'd realised what would inevitably happen and injecting it into Alenko's veins. "Call me if he appears to be in pain," she said, before setting the injector down and heading for the doorway.

She couldn't help herself, and glanced back towards the Commander and her former lover just before the door slid shut behind her. She caught a brief glimpse of Commander Shepard raising the pistol to point at Alenko's forehead, an expression of grim determination on her face, and sincerely hoped that she was right about Shepard not wanting to kill him.