A/N: All right, welcome back. We're here with some more squad interactions, along with some crew interactions *I hope*!
Fun times abound with all that. Yes, there will be much Thane/Shepard fanboying over the course of MV2, and if you don't like that kind of thing don't worry, it'll all be played for laughs.
Oh yeah, and I hit another review milestone with the last chapter. This is the fastest I've ever reached 100 reviews on anything. Soon enough I guess I'll be hearing about the 200 review mark, eh? I couldn't have done this without you guys, so thanks a ton!
Either way, I don't have too much to say, so I'll just get going with the chapter.
Chapter 6: Bach: Cello Suite no. 5
I twist the peg ever so slightly, plucking my A-string as my tongue sticks out of my mouth ever so slightly. I've long gotten out of my armor, and Thane recently moved into Life Support. Okay, twist it... Okay, my A-string is now a higher G-string. I nod as I push the peg into place, bringing my viola onto my shoulders. Okay... draw the bow across the strings... Ooh, the higher G-string is a little sharp. Okay... Tone it down...
No, no, it's the D-string that's out of tune. Right... Okay, now we have a perfect fourth.
I tune my viola, wondering why I haven't practiced yet. We're just leaving Illium now; Shepard doesn't have another dossier, so we're making course for the Citadel at the moment. Honestly, I'm surprised TIM didn't have Samara's dossier ready yet. It's in the same place, so I'd figure, why not? Then again, Miranda's loyalty mission is on Illium, so I guess it won't be a total waste of time to have to go twice. I'm actually a hell of a lot more surprised that Horizon hasn't occurred yet. Maybe it won't occur for a while?
...No, that wouldn't make any sense. I don't get why we're not heading to Horizon. I'm really not looking forward to it, but somehow I can't help but continue thinking about it. It's kind of like that one thing where you know it's bad and it's not going to be good for anyone, but you can't help but wonder when it's coming... Kind of like a jump scare. Yeah, something like that.
Either way... I retune my C-String once my lower G-string is back in tune. Okay, this shall be good. Scordatura playing in general is a bit of a pain, but I thought, why the hell not. Back wrote for it originally, so I think I might as well get things done the way they're written. Well... except for the whole 'cellos are typically an octave deeper' thing, but I'm getting ahead of myself there. Besides, the poor violist has to steal repertory.
It's a good thing 170 years have been really good to the instrument. We've racked up a whole bunch of concerti by that time, even if the Walton, Hindemith, and Bartok concertos are still the pinnacle of the repertory. I've checked a few of them out myself. Some of the other recent pinnacles are okay, some are great, and some are complete shit.
Oh well. I'm getting ahead of myself, though; I'll always fondly remember the stuff I grew up with. So I took it upon myself to learn the scordatura suite in C minor.
Right, this will be a bit hefty.
I bring my bow up to the instrument, and start playing the prelude. It starts with that one octave that I don't hate, on the open string and the third finger. I navigate through the rather slow introduction, feeling the chords pile up on the edges of my fingertips. I'm still not totally sure what to do with the chords here, but then again, it's all a matter of opinion when composers don't write dynamics. I simply go about the prelude, going with gut instinct. On some chords, I'm fairly loud; in others, I'm kind of whispering in a strange kind of way.
And the intro comes to its conclusion rather slowly. Well, there are the last really heavy triple stops for the remainder of the prelude. Those things are always tough in their own wierd ways...
And now we have a one-voice fugue. Which always takes me back to the solo violin fugues, which are monumentally difficult stuff. Not just for those fucking quadruple-stops, but because it's tough musically. So then this comes along and poses a different challenge; how do we bring out the various entrances if it's only one voice? I think I've got a handle on it now, though, and I've been keeping good enough track as it meanders through several different areas of the key of C Minor. And I close my eyes, letting myself get lost in the music as my memory fills in for the datapad that's displaying the music.
I find solace in the music, letting myself go. It helps me clear my head. Helps me forget the little fear of heights fiasco from earlier. I swear, they're never going to let me live it down after that... But I forget about it as I let the sounds of J.S. Bach fill my mind with some kind of calm. My bow seems to float across the strings as I manipulate both bow and string, and before I'm ready for it I end the movement.
When I do realize it, I open my eyes and let my instrument down slightly. It's still resting against my shoulder, though, and so I contemplate a little bit. Okay... the tempo could've been a little more even in this area... And I could've had that chord better in tune... So I still have a few chinks to iron out after all!
Before I can get to that, though, I hear the door open suddenly. The sound startles me out of my more meditative state, and I jolt slightly as a result. My eyes quickly dart to the door, and then I see Thane standing there, his posture a little surprised as he regards me with black eyes. I raise one of my eyebrows at this, and then he comes into the room.
"A musician?" he asks. "Interesting. I was not expecting that of anybody in the Normandy, let alone the one I am closest to in terms of location."
I shrug. "It's not exactly the Normandy's best-kept secret, you know," I reply. "I do have a pretty big career outside of gunning stuff down. And I definitely wasn't expecting you to have a soft spot for Johann Sebastian Bach."
"You were playing the fifth violincello suite in C minor, yes?" he asks.
I nod at this. "With retuned strings and everything," I reply with a shrug.
"It is not on the instrument it was written for," comments the drell.
I point at him, a single motion of my head cluing him in that I know what he's talking about. "No," I reply. "But when you're a violist, you tend to steal a lot from the cello repertory, you know?"
"Of course," he says as the door closes in the room with the two of us inside. "If I am disturbing you, I shall take my leave."
"Oh, no, don't worry about it," I reply as he takes a step towards the door. My reply stops him, and he turns to me. "I mean, it's so rare to see someone outside of Earth who actually likes music from our 17th Century. So this is actually quite welcome."
"I will admit there is a strange... simplicity to it," he says, holding his hands behind him. "Such music hosts a rather strange contradiction, I think. Its complexity lies in how simple it is."
"And then it's up to the performer to figure it out," I nod, leaning against my desk as I look at the assassin, feeling a smile creep on my lips. "There's something kind of beautiful about that, you know?"
"Indeed," he says. "I confess we never did get an opportunity to introduce ourselves in the... rush when I arrived."
I shrug. "No problem," I say. "I take it you're Thane Krios?"
He simply nods in reply. "And you are...?"
"****** *********," I reply. "I go by Art most of the time." I'm a fan of yours, Mr. Krios. God damn it, I wish I could say that.
"A pleasure then, Art," he replies.
I nod at this, bringing my viola down from my shoulder as I hold it up against my body, my hand wrapped around the neck. "So how did you find out about human culture?" I ask. I've always wanted to ever since he quoted Thomas Hobbes, so yeah...
"I had a contact a couple of years ago," he says. "The target was a wealthy man on Earth. He was the head of some red sand operation down there, and an officer had hired me to eliminate him. So I journeyed there and did the job successfully. However, I could not help but note all of the knowledge he had there..."
His second eyelids nictate, and then he seems to get lost somewhere. "The scent of old pages in the air," he says. Oh, dear, here we go into his first solipsism. "Shelves, lined with old things. Some dissolve in my hands. I take one. 'And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all'. A spark ignites in my mind. Flash of red, followed by a dot on my hand. Leave quickly."
He blinks once, and then I raise one of my eyebrows. "I was... affected by it," he continues. "And so in the months afterwards I made myself acquainted with many things in human culture."
I blink at this, looking over to him. "What was that?" I ask, keeping in character. "That wierd thing with the rambling on?"
"Drell have... perfect memory," he states. "We can recall everything with perfect clarity. Sometimes, if we think about a memory enough, we can get... lost in it... I will call it a solipsism to make it easier on yourself."
Ah, yes, the perfect memory bit. "Of course," I say. "I didn't think Edgar Allen Poe would set off quite a level of interest in any alien species..."
"You would be rather surprised in that regard," he says. "It is a fascinating culture."
I nod. "So who else tickles your fancy aside from J.S. Bach?" I ask, deciding to go into it a little more.
"If you are asking about composers, then I must say I'm rather fond of the works of Edward Elgar and the French impressionist composers," he replies, folding his hands behind him. "Periods in general... I am quite fond of the Baroque era as well as certain late romantics."
Ah, so he's into more romantic music, then? "I see," I reply. "Always good to be on the more Romantic side of things. Just out of curiosity, what about the German romantics?"
Thane's second eyelids nictate rather briefly. "I will admit I do not exactly admire some of them," he says. "I am rather inclined to dislike Wagner, for instance."
I blink. "Oh dear..." I say, glancing to the side. Damn it, not Wagner. "I take it you don't like the 20th Century then..."
"I should not think so," he replies. "Why do you ask?"
I shrug. "Because you dislike some of the stuff I like most," I say. "But whatever." I give a rather quick shrug. "That's not important. You still like good stuff from where I stand anyways. What's your favorite Elgar, then?"
"Possibly the first symphony," replies the drell. "Yours?"
"The Enigma Variations," I reply. "I'll admit I'm not too familiar with Elgar's first symphony. Shame on me, you know?"
He blinks, his expression not changing. "Perhaps, perhaps not," he says. "From my understanding, you admire a different kind of music."
"Oh, yes," I reply. "Where I come in, the order of the day is Edgard Varése followed by a bit of Schoenberg and possibly some Mahler lieder before I go off and have a field day trying to figure out what the hell Stockhausen was trying to say with stuff like the helicopter string quartet and somesuch."
His second eyelids nictate briefly as he stands there. "Our tastes are very different, then," he replies. "But I do not object at all. You listen to what you like, and I would be a fool to try to convince you otherwise."
I raise one of my eyebrows at this. "Wow, I wish everyone had that attitude," I reply. "It'd make my life a hell of a lot easier, you know?" When he simply acknowledges this with a nod, I shift slightly, wondering something. "How did you get all the stuff from the older human cultures, anyway?"
"My contacts were very reliable in this regard," he states, only adjusting where his foot is. "Of course, I did some of my own searching, but most of the time they were able to assist me in this matter. I never imagined I would meet a human musician over the course of my life, however."
I shrug. "I know the feeling," I comment. "I never imagined I would be on the original Normandy helping to kick Saren Arterius' bony turian ass, either. And yet, here I am, helping Shepard. Again."
"Indeed," he says. "I must admit, the commander is an... intriguing woman." Oh, shit... I think he's getting attracted to her already. "I was wondering if you could tell me something about her. Something I don't know..."
... Like, Oh my god! "Of course," I ask, setting the instrument down. "What sort of things did you have in mind?"
"Small things," he says. "Perhaps unimportant things. But I would still be interested."
Oh, yes, I think I shall take the first step to bringing them together... while she's still technically with Kaidan. Hello, Ramona Flowers and Knives Chau! Oh, well. Kaidan's about to dump her anyway, I might as well get my start soon.
"Sure," I say, pulling the chair from the desk and sitting down. "Feel free to sit on the bed."
He tentatively sits on my bed after the gesture, but when he settles there we begin talking about Shepard. And as the conversation goes on, I begin to get a little more giddy. Thane is interested, at least from what I can tell. Intrigue might turn into something else... I should get Thane and the Commander to talk together sometime. Because when that happens, good times will be had. Even if he is set to die in real life, I think it'll do Shepard some good.
I had a pretty long discussion with Thane before we left each other to our devices. He really is a cool person to talk to, and I'm afraid it's only going to make my fanboying worse. Especially now that I know he likes Edward Elgar...
I probably should've mentioned that I played principal viola in the Enigma Variations once. True story, too; I really did do it before I came over here. But alas, that's not within this universe. But it was still a great experience, mostly because Elgar's viola part was rarely ever boring. That, and being principal I got a pair of really nice solos out of the deal. But that was a bit ago, so now I'm just left doing stuff, I guess.
And now, I'm sitting at my desk, writing stuff. Damn it, I still can't get that poem about love right... I'm typing away with all the other poems, but damn it, that love poem is giving me such a big headache. And even thinking about Shepard and Thane isn't helping me at all! Good Lord...
I shake my head, and open up my notation program. I decide it's better to work on what I already have, so I fill in the accompaniment for the song about friendship. Now there I had plenty of incredible ideas, and I go about with a smile as I fill in the rather playful accompaniment. Lots of fun little things to do here... and...
I hear the door open for the second time since I've been in here. I turn to look at Shepard, who seems to be fairly calm right now. I nod to her and smile.
"Shepard," I say, turning my chair around slightly to look at her. "What's up?"
"Got a few minutes to talk?" she asks.
I nod at this. "Sure," I reply. "I was wondering something myself..."
"If I spoke to Thane?" she asks.
Wait... I blink, raising one of my eyebrows in reply. "How did you know?" I ask.
"He and I have been getting along rather well, I should think," she replies. "I am not sure... There is something... mysterious about him. It's really quite alluring..."
"I see..." I reply. "It seems like you two are getting along just fine."
"We make very fast friends, that is for sure," she says. "He's... sensitive. And something about my conversations with him is relaxing in the strangest ways. I find myself drawn to that. It's... meditative, in a way."
"Oh..." I acknowledge with a brief nod. "I can sense the beginning of something nice."
"So do I," she admits. "Only problem is it might not get past friendship."
I nod, licking my lips and lightly biting my lower lip. "Kaidan..." I say, knowing why she brought him up now. Shit...
The commander shrugs as she shifts on her feet. "I know where he is now," she says, and I can tell there's a bit of trepidation. "He's on a human colony. Horizon."
Oh dear. I know where this is going... "Let me guess," I reply, looking her over. "It's about to be attacked by the Collectors."
She nods gravely. "The Illusive Man told me that all of his intel points at that," she replies. "It scares me a little. I'm afraid for Kaidan's safety. And I'm also... I don't know what he'll say when he sees me again..." Wait, Shepard is showing fear? No way! She begins pacing around the room, her breathing a little more noticeable. "I don't know, Art. I've been dead for two years. How does any relationship work that out?"
... God damn it, I shouldn't have played matchmaker for Kaidan and Shepard back on the first Normandy. Maybe then I wouldn't have this dilemma to deal with. She's starting to fall in love with Thane, I'm sure of it, but the fact that she's still technically taken is suspect. The fact that I fucking know what Kaidan's going to say to her doesn't make that knowledge any better. Shit, this is going to be a really bad mission. And if Shepard does something monumentally stupid afterwards, I'm not going to be surprised. I'll be shocked, but I'll see it coming.
"I... I really don't know," I reply. "We'll just have to see what happens and roll with the punches."
She nods. "I hope he'll accept that I'm taking a paycheck from Cerberus," she says. "I don't think he'll be too happy about it, but we're working for the good of the galaxy here. We don't have the time for petty disputes. I'm sure he'll see that... right?"
And for the first time, I really don't know what to tell her. Should I tell her... No, that would mean I'd have to spill the beans about myself. And I'm not up to doing that. So yeah... This is a tough call... I nod gravely, glancing at the ground before looking at her.
"Tell you what," I say. "Bring me on the ground team. And if worse comes to worse, I'll be right there. And if you need someone to vent to, you can come to Garrus or me."
She nods. "All right," she says. "I'll do that. And speaking of Garrus... he's not too happy about the detour."
"I can imagine he wouldn't be," I reply with a nod. "But it'll only be this one detour, right?"
"Yes," says Shepard, crossing her arms in front of her. "But at the top of my mind, Kaidan is my greatest concern."
With this, she nods to me. "Thanks, Art," she says. "You're an incredibly reliable friend."
I nod, cracking a soft smile. "Don't mention it," I reply. "It's good to be around here, Shepard."
And with this, she nods and leaves. As soon as she does, my smile falls, and I look back at my work. Damn it... I'm such a horrible friend. I should've just stopped her from falling for Kaidan... I don't know what I was thinking two years ago when I said 'ah, we'll let whatever happen happen.' Because now, the fallout is going to be incredible...
Shit, I should've just let her run...
I look back at my terminal, and suddenly find myself unwilling to work on the friendship song. I save my progress and close it before moving on to something else that's begging for my attention.
I compose a little bit more before I see it fit to wonder around the Normandy. Hm... I haven't checked in with Zaeed all that much outside of where he is. Might as well get to that now...
I walk over to where he is, and I find him leaning against the wall, his arms crossed as he looks at the area. Well... Everything's certainly laid out much the same way. The model of the turian frigate over there... Jessie laying on the table... And that sort of thing. As soon as I enter, he gives me a rather odd look, and then I go in and look around.
"Well, if it isn't the musician again," he says. "The musician who also freezes up on high bridges."
I blink, and violently whip my head around to look at him. "Oh, come on, I have a fear of heights!" I say. "That, and there was nothing protecting me from falling off."
"True, there's nothin' worse than a dead comerade," he agrees. "But still, did ya have to hide back there?"
I raise my eyebrows. "You try living on nothing but flat land for 19 years of your life," I reply. "You get really afraid of heights after that, let me tell you."
I walk into the room, feeling Zaeed's gaze on me. "Maybe, but I wouldn't let it get ta me," he says.
"Yeah, well, you're older than I am," I comment. "You've had more than enough experience not to get jostled by that thing. Me? The only thing I did was to kick the ass of a turian Spectre and get my ass handed to me on a silver platter by just about everyone else. You've been fighting wars for much longer than I have."
"Ya, that may be true, but you're not givin' yourself enough credit, I think," he says, uncrossing his arms. "It takes a hell of a lot of bravado to do what ya did two years ago. You joined a mission with no firearm experience and by the end of it managed to take down a Spectre. That's damn near close enough to all my 20 years of mercenary work, I tell ya."
I blink, moving over by Jessie. "I see," I say, standing right next to his old rifle. I glance down at the thing... Wow, the bloody thing is caked in dirt and grime and all that other pretty stuff. It's... kind of charming, in its own odd little way. "What's this?"
Zaeed starts a little, but when I place my hands behind my back he settles a little bit. "Don't touch," he says. "That rifle is older than you are, and it's killed more men than died in the Skillian Blitz. I call 'er Jessie..."
I raise my eyebrow at this. "Naming your rifles, eh?" I ask. "This one must've been incredibly dear to you..."
"She was the first gun I picked up," he says as he comes around. I can see him getting a little misty as he approaches me, his hand trailing lovingly down Jessie's barrel. "She didn't have much punch, but she was reliable as all hell. She'd been through a lot when I found 'er, but even then I never had to resight 'er once."
"Wow, that is a pretty reliable gun," I reply, smiling at the thought. "You must've been through a lot together."
"That we did," he said. "I took 'er everywhere. She was like a sister to me, she was. I remember her first kill. A turian arms dealer out of Omega. I ran miles through all this filth and rust to hunt him down. By the time I found 'im that gun was caked in two inches of the worst sludge you can think of. But Jessie wanted 'im dead as much as I did, so two shots, and he was dead."
I nod. "I'll bet the day you had to put her down was the saddest day of your life," I say.
"That it was," he replies. "I was takin' down this batarian slaver. I went through 100 mooks, never ejected a single clip. I get to the slaver, pull the trigger, and... nothing." His voice goes melancholic as he looks out the window beyond Jessie. "The old bitch had finally jammed. And after that, she couldn't be fixed. It's like she finally had enough blood." He looks back down at Jessie. "I'd give up every gun I own for one last mission with this shitty old rifle. I owe her everythin' about me." He's all misty and stuff... Aw, he loves something! A gun, but still.
He looks over to me. "I don't expect ya to get it," he comments. "Jessie and I had somethin' special. Somethin' you couldn't understand. She was like a sister, that gun. I still keep 'er with me even if I can't use it anymore."
I nod, looking down at the rifle. "I know the feeling," I reply, smiling and thinking of things back home. "Back on Earth, I knew this girl. We never actually met in person, but we had a hell of a great extranet correspondence. The two of us were oddballs in our society. We both loved stuff that was older than even our grandparents, and we both wrote things based on that, you know? She kind of became like a sister to me, too; I trusted her with stuff I wouldn't even trust my parents with."
I look out the window as I cross my arms. How to make this relatable to Zaeed...? Oh! I know! "She had this car," I reply. "It was this blue station wagon. A Chevy Malibu, I think the thing was called. From 2003, if I remember correctly. I don't quite remember what else was mentioned about the car, but she still treated it like something special. I still don't know how the hell she got it to work, but she did. She called it Boshi..."
Zaeed snorts upon hearing the name. "Boshi?" he asks. "What kind of silly name for somethin' is that?"
"I don't know, but it was a hell of a catchy name, so it stuck," I reply. "Anyway... She took that old car everywhere. Her twin brother ended up having to fix it all the time, but she still referred to it affectionately. I remember she'd make comments on various web pages about Boshi, and how she always freaked out whenever she got into an accident with that shitty old car."
I shrugged. "I found myself on the Citadel after one of those instances," I reply. "I still don't know the fate of that ridiculously old car. But I hope it was good, for her sake as well as mine. She loved that car dearly, kind of the way you feel for Jessie."
He nods at this. "Some things are so god damn strange," says the old merc. "Boshi... Jessie..."
I nod. "Attachments to material items are an odd thing indeed," I agree, crossing my arms in front of me. "I dunno. If I ever name something I have I'll be sure to let you know. Even if it does happen on the 12th of Never."
He scoffs at this. "I'm sure you'll find somethin' down the line," he says. "I didn't use to think I'd name anythin' until I found Jessie. Ya know what happened after."
"Right," I say, walking past him and towards the door to the rest of the ship. "Lucky charms are always awesome. I'll see you around Zaeed."
"Same 'ere," he says. "Don't fall off anythin', ya hear?"
I blink, knowing what he's making fun of indirectly. "I'll keep it in mind," I say, continuing to walk out of the room, not wanting to touch on the fact that I know he's talking about the bridge of the Dantius towers.
So I simply walk out, and I feel strange about having talked about Jessie and Boshi in the same conversation. Seriously, what give?
I find myself over at Jacob's work station after a little bit, where he's busy at work calibrating his rifle. Or picking at oversized nails. Depends on whether he's actually a werewolf or not. Speaking of which...
"Heyo, Mr. Taylor," I greet.
He doesn't seem to move as he hears me, but he does spare me a glance back. "Mr. *********," he replies nonchalantly. "How are you today?"
"Fine," I say. "Well... except that I don't think Zaeed will ever let me live down the whole 'fear of heights' fiasco..."
He chuckles at this. "That was a little troublesome, I have to admit," he says. "Speaking of which... I hope you're feeling better after that?"
I nod. "Yeah, I'm fine now," I reply. "And I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have freaked out if I saw something that could help keep us from falling off. Living on a flat place all your life does that to you."
"Indeed," he says. "I'm sure you came here to talk about more than your fear of heights though..."
I nod, smiling as he works on the weapon still. Always so formal. "Well, Mr. Taylor, I actually had a question I wanted to ask," I say. "A silly question, probably, but one that I'd like to see answered anyhow..."
"What is it?" asks the armoury chief.
I cross my arms. "If you had a choice of being a vampire or a werewolf, which one would you go with?"
I don't see so much as I hear the pause after this. He glances back to me for the first time in the conversation, and he gives me the only real expression of confusion I've ever seen him give. He turns around, his expression still knit in a confused way as he leaned against the table.
"Why are you asking me that?" he asks.
I shrug. "If I told you, you probably wouldn't get it," I reply. "Probably me being silly, but... I'm just curious is all..."
Jacob raises one of his eyebrows, still retaining the rather confused expression on his face. "You're not going to leave me alone until I answer, are you?" he asks.
I wink at him playfully. "Maybe, maybe not," I reply. "But definitely leaning more towards maybe at the moment."
He closes his eyes and lets out a small sigh. "This is embarrasing," he mutters, his fingers tapping against his arm, thinking. I tilt my head as I wait for his answer. Finally, he uncrosses his arms and stands fully upright. "If you must know, I would go with vampire."
... Vampire? "Really?" I ask. "Why vampire?"
"I'm not sure," he admits at first. "But you have to admit there is something rather... interesting about only being able to come out at night. True, I have to live on blood for the rest of my life, but I think it would be nice to sleep in a coffin during the day. Why the confusion?"
I bring my hand up, and I bite my lower lip to keep myself from smirking. "You look like more of a werewolf type to me," I comment. "I mean, you get to transform at night, run around like a wolf..."
"The transformation is probably painful, though," he replies. "I don't think I'd like that."
"Yeah, but it beats almost burning to death every time you come into contact with UV radiation," I point out. "That, and you become a wolf! Wolves are badass!"
Jacob blinks at this. "They're also extinct," he replies.
... Oh... Right... "Well... were badass... anyhow..." I say, remembering that they went extinct at least 2 years before the turn of the 22nd Century. "But still, you get my point." Besides, we already have a black vampire in the form of that one Bob Marley wannabe who's probably really from Haiti.
"I just don't like the thought of turning into an extinct species," he comments. "If it's fictional, I'd prefer to go with whatever is not already dead. That, and I don't like the fact that I lose myself completely to instincts."
"Well, you forget that werewolves aren't completely wolven," I reply, crossing my arms. "So you get superhuman agility. And besides, you can get lost to instinct if you're a vampire too. The blood lust can drive you mad."
"Still," replies Jacob. "I wonder if animal blood would cut it. Or maybe I could even be a vegan vampire. It would be interesting to see what would-"
"Uh, no, it would not," I interrupt nervously, biting my lip. "Vegan vampires are idiotic. I hear that if you're a vegan vampire, you sparkle."
He blinks at this, not entirely sure what to say to this. It's silent in the armoury for a few seconds as he processes this last bit of information in his head. Finally, he frowns, shaking his head.
"You're right, that does sound idiotic," he says. "All right then... animal blood it is."
I cross my arms. "You never know if that'll cut it," I reply.
Jacob shrugs. "Still, I prefer vampire," he says. "I take it you're a werewolf kind of man?"
"Yes," I reply, shrugging and smiling a little bit. "Definitely werewolf. I was just curious to see where you stand."
"And I'm even more curious to see why you wanted to ask me that," replies Jacob.
I nod at this. "Fair point," I reply. "But that's reasons for me to know and you to find out. Just know that I was a little curious."
"Right," he says. "I'll hold you on your word for now. But know that it's a strange question and that I don't feel comfortable thinking about what this means."
... Oh dear, I just spawned a new Kaidan Alenko on the Normandy, didn't I? Oh dear. This is going to be fun. Maybe not, but still. We'll have to see what comes of this. Maybe he'll come to trust my motives anyway. I hope so. Because then that will be good.
"Right," I say. "Anyhow, I should let you get back to work. I'll see you around Mr. Taylor."
"And I as well," comments Jacob, turning around and turning his attention back to the firearm in question.
Yep... I've definitely made someone suspicious. Nice job breaking it, Art. Ah, well, hopefully Tali will be the only one who knows about who I really am by the time we get to the Collector base...
Wait, what am I saying? These are the same exact things I suspected Kaidan would do, and yet he never did it. Maybe Jacob is just another Kaidan Alenko waiting to happen. Maybe it's that in addition to being named similarly after that one werewolf guy. Ah, well, I'll never figure that out until later down the road...
As I walk through the halls of the Normandy, my mind wanders to Tali. I wonder how she's doing on Haestrom right now. No doubt she's working hard, and always hoping for things to turn out in her favor. I hope she's all right at the moment. I know she'll be fine once the geth start to show up. I wonder what sort of experiments she's doing on the sun over in Haestrom. And why would the Fleet need it, anyway? I'm not sure.
But I hope she's keeping herself safe. I'd really love to see her again, and it would be a shame if she died before her dossier mission. And plus, it would be nice to have another familiar face around the Normandy aside from Garrus and Shepard. Well... visor, but still. I'd really like to talk to her again...
God damn that lack of comm buoys in Haestrom's system! Ah, well... hopefully we'll see her soon, and I'll get to give her a nice, big hug when I run into her. But not too big. After all, people will say we're in love... And we're not... right?
Speaking of Tali, I think I should get to know the two Cerberus engineers of the Normandy. So I head down to the engineering deck, hoping to see Ken and Gabby in one of their classic vitriolic best buds/possible lovers conversations. Either way, I'll be seeing a lot more of their faces once Tali comes aboard, so I might as well make myself friendly to them. Plus, it'll be a good way to see how badly I fail at Skyllian 5 poker when they start playing it.
I walk over to engineering, and sure enough I see Ken on the right and Gabby on the left. They're both typing away at their little console thing (or whatever), and they both seem fairly engrossed in their work. They actually don't know I'm standing there until Ken turns and raises an eyebrow, prompting Gabby to do the same. Gabby gives a look before mumbling somethign and turning around.
Ken isn't so inclined. "Oh, I don't believe I've seen ya around these parts, sir," he begins.
"Relax, I'm not the commanding officer," I reply, holding my hand up. "The name's Art *********."
At this, Gabby turns her head around violently, her eyes wide. "Wait, *********?" she asks. "Like the composer?"
... Oh, dear, I have fans. Run for the hills!
"Uh... yeah," I reply, bringing a hand up behind my head and ruffling the hair back there a little bit.
Her smile is incredibly broad after this, and then she turns around. "Algorithms can wait," she says, turning to face me. "I'm a huge, huge fan of your Last Days of the Earth score! I have the official soundtrack downloaded to my omni-tool! I even got the score! It's a little nerdy of me, but I like it a lot anyway!"
I cross my arms as I say this. "Really?" I ask. "You bought something you can barely read because you like it so much?" Jeez, she's more like Ken than she's willing to let on!
"Yeah, man," says Ken, gesturing with his hand as he too turns around. "She obsesses over it greatly. It makes me a wee bit afraid for myself sometimes, I should say."
I smile at this. "Well, if you have an old writing implement, I could probably sign the datapad it's on," I say.
She's positively beaming by this point. "You would?" she asks. "Oh, that would be awesome!"
"Great," I say, winking. "We'll see what happens then..."
"Are you sure it's a good idea, Mr. *********?" asks Ken. "This can't lead to good things, I think."
"Oh, hush, Ken," replies Gabby. "It can't be that bad, right?"
Okay, frankly, this is getting a little frightening. Ken was supposed to be the slightly insane one, and Gabby was supposed to be the more sensible one. It's almost like my being here means they've had a complete role reversal. What the hell is this?
"Yeah, there's nothing really bad about that," I comment. Need I bring up Conrad Verner to show a case of why Gabby's fangirlism isn't such a bad thing? "Besides, it is only a score."
"Yeah," she says. "But still, I really like it."
"Thanks," I reply. "So... what do you guys do around here?"
"We're the engineers," says Gabby as she gestures to the console she was working on. "I'm Gabby Daniels, and this is Ken Donnely."
"Pleasure to meet ya, Mr. *********," says Ken.
"Likewise," I reply. "I've got a lot of respect for you guys. My dad was a medical engineer."
Gabby looked at me in surprise. "A medical engineer?" she asked. "And yet you're a musician! What's up with that?"
"Well, it's kind of a long story," I replied. "To make it short, I was a huge Rodgers and Hammerstein fan as a little boy, I played violin when I was seven, and it just kind of took off from there, you know?"
"Rodgers and Hammerstein?" she asks. "Who're they?"
I blink. "You mean you don't know their musicals?" I ask. "Oklahoma? Carousel? The King and I? The Sound of Music?"
"I don't think so..." she says.
I facepalm quickly, shaking my head and looking back at her. "For shame!" I reply. "You're missing out, Gabby! Go get a hold of those vids and watch them when you can spare some time!"
She only nods briefly at my impassioned statements before she blinks. "Okay," she says.
"Yes," I reply. "But I always have respect for anyone who makes sure things go according to schedule. I take it you have to put up with a lot of crap."
"Oh, you have no idea," replies the Scottish engineer as he crosses his arms in front fo him. "It's insanity."
"But I'm glad you appreciate our efforts," adds Gabby. "More people need to have that attitude towards us."
I frown slight. "People shout at you?" I ask.
Ken and Gabby spare each other a glance before looking back to me. "In our old postings," replies the female engineer. "This is actually an improvement. The commander is really great."
"I see, I see," I reply.
Ken nods at this. "I get the feelin' you're not here to talk about stuff like that, though," he says, hoping to change the subject. "What brings ya down here?"
I shrug. "Oh, I realized I haven't seen the entire ship yet," I reply, deciding to save the Tali conversation for when she actually shows up here. "So I thought I'd do that while we're heading to this colony. And I'm guessing this is the engineering deck, right?"
"Yep," says Gabby. "We manage the drive core down here. It's really tiring, though, so we never go up to the other decks."
"For shame..." I comment, shaking my head. "It sounds like you guys could use a breather every so often."
"Yeah, mate," agrees Ken. "We've got too much to do down here sometimes. It gets a bit crazy, you know?"
"Ken, I think you're overreacting," replies Gabby, and I can hear the slight disapproval in her voice as she says this. "It's not that complicated."
I shrug at this, knowing it's in Ken's power. Need I remind you of that one conversation you two have when Tali shows up and your Shepard is a girl? "Yeah, that's easy for you to say when I do all the hard stuff," replies Ken as he turns back to the console.
I roll my eyes. "I don't know what the hell makes making sure a drive core functions properly such hard work," I comment.
"It's tough when you don't have any reference," admits Gabby. "The original Normandy was a prototype, as I'm sure you know. This is building off of that even more. And we're struggling to keep up."
"We usually only need two people down here," he says. "But we're fallin' behind. Fast. We're gonna need some more help down here soon, I can feel it."
Well, I hope we pick up Tali soon, then, because that'll come as a major help for both of you. "Well, let's hope we can find you a third engineer," I comment.
"I'm hoping for that too, actually," says Gabby as she turns back to the console. "When should I get you the datapad for you to sign it?"
I shrug as I shift my feet a little. "If I'm not wandering the Normandy, you can find me by Life Support," I say. "Knock on the door, and if I don't answer leave the datapad there."
"All right," she says. "Thank you for the signature in advance!"
"No problem," I say, smiling. "I hope I get to see more of you two in the near future!"
And with this, I leave them to do their engineering work. As I walk back to the elevator, I think a little bit about something. Joker's gonna pass through here when he has to save the Normandy from the Collectors. So how does that one husk end up around here? I don't know, and somehow I don't really think it matters all that much. Poor, poor Joker is going to have to see a psychiatrist once the day is done.
Either way... I wonder what else there is to do around the ship... Maybe I should check in with Joker soon. Yeah, I definitely should check in with Joker. There are jokes to be exchanged and all that jazz.
I walk over to the pilot's chair, and notice the chair swivel around a little bit. I look down at Joker, and then he nods.
"Hey Art," he says. "How're you doing?"
"I'm fine," I reply.
He nods at this. "You know, you don't really look like the kind who's afraid of heights," he begins.
I freeze up at this, feeling every muscle in my body suddenly go rigid. I look at him, and before long my right eye starts to twitch.
"Et tu, Joker?" I ask.
"Hey, don't look at me," replies the pilot. "I just heard about it from Shepard."
"Indeed, Serviceman *********," adds EDI. "There should be no cause for alarm, if you are thinking that Mr. Massani was the one to blame for this."
I raise one of my eyebrows at EDI. "Right," I reply, crossing my arms. "So how about this? For every time you bring up my fear of heights, that's one extra limb I get to threaten with breaking. With the air."
"Such a venture would prove to be impossible, Mr. *********," replies the ship's AI.
"I know that, EDI," I reply, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. "It's called 'a joke'."
"A bit of a sadistic one, but still a joke," comments Joker as he glances over to EDI's terminal. "Seriously, EDI, you should lighten up a little bit.
"I do not see the point of trying to 'lighten up', as you put it, Mr. Moreau," replies the AI.
I let out a long sigh, my upper body leaning forward slightly. "Jesus Christ on a pikestaff," I reply. "Joker, mute button!"
"I would-"
And just like that, EDI is silenced. Joker shakes his head at the EDI port by his chair, crossing his arms as he then beholds me. I myself shake my head before glancing back to Joker. "Seriously, man," I continue. "She's always derailing our conversations one way or another."
"I'm trying to teach her how to make jokes," replies the pilot. "I don't think it's going so well."
"I can tell," I reply. "She lacks the ability to detect jokes right off the bat. This does not bode well for any of us, I tell you."
He shakes his head. "But anyway, I wonder if you had something you wanted to say...?"
Hm... I don't remember what I wanted to say anymore... Yeah, this was a bit of a problem. Uh... what do I...?
Oh, wait... Damn... Well, if that happened, I can drag Joker down with me. So here we go.
"Well, I just lost the game," I reply smugly, crossing my arms as a smirk comes on my face. "So there we go."
He blinks, and from his look of seeming shock I can tell he definitely wasn't expecting it. He scrunches his face slightly, confused about it. And finally, he just shakes his head.
"Damn it," he mutters. "I thought you were done with the game when you introduced it to Wrex on the first Normandy."
"Yeah, well, old habits die hard," I reply, a playful smile tugging at my lips. "I'm surprised that you play the game in the first place."
Joker shrugs at this. "You know how it is," he replies. "It's fun seeing reactions to losing the game. Well, when they're not threatening to break your bones, that is."
I shrug. "Eh, whatever," I reply. "Either way, you have lost the game."
The pilot looks over to me once before glancing to the side. "You're not planning on introducing it to Grunt, are you?" he asks.
My resulting smirk is more evil than it has any right to be. "Yes, yes I am, actually," I reply. "I'm going to wait until he likes me, though. Because right now, he thinks I'm a whelp. My fear of heights doesn't help."
"Yeah, I imagine it wouldn't," he says. "How come it only came out just now?"
I shake my head, my arms still crossed as I lean against the wall by the pilot. "You try walking on a high bridge with winds throwing you about everywhere with no guard rails. That would be any acrophobiac's worst fear."
The pilot nods his agreement. "I see, then," he says. "Well, at least you didn't fall off. It would've been a sad day for all of us. Especially Shepard; it means a lot for her to have people she knows on this ship."
"Yeah, I can imagine," I reply, looking out. "How do you think Kaidan's going to react to all this?"
Joker shrugs where he sits. "Honestly?" He asks. "I wouldn't be surprised if he got pretty pissy. I want to tell Shepard, but I can definitely do with no broken arms right now."
I nod, looking out to the stars. "I know the feeling," I reply. "I just don't want to mention that to her at all. I don't think Kaidan will agree with her." It's all true, too, as I know it's happening. "But... I really wish he could. It would be great for the commander's mind." And bad for my Thane shipping. But that's besides the point. "I just hope he'll at least be willing to consider her side when the going gets tough."
"If he doesn't, I might just have to break him," he says. "Somehow."
I shake my head. "Joker, leave that to me," I reply, gesturing to myself. "I have less of a chance of getting every bone in my body broken."
"Oh, sure, leave it to the Serviceman," says Joker, waving his arms around. "Because Staff Commanders always listen to their grunts!"
"That'll just make the shoutdown more classic," I reply. "Because if you're willing to abandon someone you care for deeply because of Cerberus, it's going to be epic anyway."
"Can't argue with you there," replies Joker. "Just, good luck down there. It might get bad."
I nod in reply to this. "I'll be careful, Joker," I say. "And I'll be back on the Normandy in time for dinner."
"Hah," he says, waving his hand. "If you're not back by lunch I'm making a joke about your fear of heights."
I raise my right eyebrow, clearly not amused. "And if you dare, I'm breaking your arm," I reply. "With EDI. More specifically, that little volume thing that expands when she talks."
And with this, I tilt my head to the side, letting Joker know the conversation is over. With this, he leaves a small 'see ya' before turning the chair back around and hitting the mute button again. I walk away, thinking about Kaidan and his reaction.
It's not going to be good, I know it. But something's bugging me. We never see Kaidan after that one point in Horizon. So... I wonder if we're ever going to bump into him again. If we do, then it might be appropriate to actually give him a shoutdown about why he abandoned her. Especially if he calls Shepard out on moving on. After all, he brought it on himself.
But still... I hope to God it deviates from canon in terms of Kaidan. Because if it doesn't, we'll all be incredibly sad pandas over here. Especially Shepard. And I'm afraid for how she'll really react to Kaidan outright rejecting her.