A/N: Sorry for the delayed update, folks. I was on the road last week, and regular update tiem came around and I found myself away from computer or internets. So, a bit late, but Chapter Nine is here and updates should resume on the usual schedule... hopefully. :P

Cheers!

xxxx

Chapter IX - IVI474

xxxx

I must have been coming around, adjusting to fuzzy surroundings and hazy senses. It was an awful feeling, knowing something had gone wrong not being able to tell quite sure what. I propped myself on my right elbow and tried to figure out where I was.

The Ortona, my ship, didn't have a med-bay past the storage room by the end of the mess hall. Still delirious, I could tell I was alone. Probably for the better. I groaned as I sat up, wincing as I ran a hand over my right thigh. I had ended up back in my casual wear, but I could feel bandages underneath the black pants. I sat there for a minute and assessed my condition. My leg didn't feel broken. It was probably just a muscle injury. In which case…

I swung my legs off of the bed and attempted to stand. My injured leg protested, but held my weight. I winced as I took several steps, limping all the way. I could walk. That was good enough. My mind began to race, and remember that I had sent Sam off on her own. With any luck, she had made it back to the Ortona before me. I kicked my ass in gear to go check.

Stairs turned out to be a fucking nightmare, and I was just barely able to hobble down them before breaking into a sweat and cursing profusely. Still, I made it to the lower deck of the ship and headed towards engineering.

The doors slid open. Sam was standing there in front of a desk and actually working. She glanced back at me, started to smile, and then turned away from her work. "Hey hey. Back on your feet crazy fast."

"Glad to see you made it back in one piece." I took a deep breath. We had made it out."You alright?"

"Surest thing. I was able to get back to the Ortona a minute before it lifted dock. You… bought me time." She shook her head and laughed softly. "You're super crazy. So, like what were you trying to prove exactly?"

I scratched the back of my head as I stood there in the open doorway. "I wanted to get you out of there safe, and I didn't know what else to do…"

"Well, next time let me stay and fight. I'd much rather that than having to patch you up."

"Thanks for that, by the way." I commented. "And next time, I'll make sure you've got your Doomsday armor."

"That would also be nice." Sam gleamed. She didn't seem very upset. "Also, you brought this back with you."

She tossed me a small, grey metallic disk that was flat on one side, almost sticky. I turned it over in my hands for several moments before figuring out what it was. "A tracking beacon."

"You guessed it. I think it's that Spectre's work. It doesn't match Contractor tech." She paused, perhaps seeing my unease. "Don't worry, I deactivated it right away and even took out the power core. It's just scrap metal now. I didn't know if you wanted to keep it as a memento."

"I'll pass, thanks." I scowled as I tossed the tracker into a nearby trashbin.

"Suit yourself. And I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, but… Jack wanted you to call him as soon as you were capable."

"I should probably take care of that."

"Probably."

xxxx

I flexed my leg uncomfortably as I leaned against the inactive holo-projector. I knew what I needed to do; call Jack and explain we had failed, that I had nearly died, and we were right back to square one. Fuck, I didn't want to face that.

Not now, as my head hung low and my hair fell over my face. I was bitter, resentful. I wasn't sure of what. The Contractor was almost a constant, something to direct my hatred towards. I could feel my bionic fingers digging into the metal of the table as I thought about it more. No, what I was feeling now was something else, and no matter how hard I tried I could not put my finger on it. Perhaps it was guilt riding up me, self-doubt eroding the truth that I was leading a good cause.

I raised my right arm, activating my omni-tool. I had the Spectre's address, at least from the Retryna. I could write her right then and there, try to work things out. My left hand hovered over the 'compose' dialogue. Then, for reasons I didn't understand and refused to attribute to cowardice, I lowered my hand. I couldn't face her.

I knew I would come to regret that decision.

Instead, I keyed a call in to Trinder at the TIER HQ and transferred it to the holo-projector. I lowered my omni-tool and brushed my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ears best I could and drawing a breath in until my ribs hurt. Nobody had ever said that being a commander would be easy, but I never understood how soul crushing it actually was. The day in, day out… I could escape by working on my armor. No matter how hard I tried.

"Greetings, my boy." Jack said as soon as his yellow recreation appeared above the projector table. "I'm relieved to see you are still standing."

"Trinder." I saluted, probably doing a poor job of hiding my slumped shoulders and weakened leg. "I guess Samantha told you how the last mission went."

"Briefly. She didn't elaborate on many of the details." Jack replied.

"Right. So you know the Contractor got the info broker first."

He nodded.

"And that we ran into Mender and the T'Vintha sisters." I continued.

Again he nodded.

"And that I got hit by a minigun bullet then had a run-in with the Asari Spectre."

"Sam did not mention that last part." Jack noted.

"Well." I began, looking down. "I nearly got away from the fight before she came after me. Took me down and tried to fight. I… ended up stunning her with a flash grenade so I could run."

"Such are the choices we make. I'm sure her injuries will heal. The bruised pride, however… I would advise you take extra caution with her in the future. She will not be so lenient after letting you escape a second time."

"Yeah."

Jack continued. "I understand your wish to forge an alliance with this Spectre, but at this time it does not seem like a wise move."

I nodded in agreement. "She's not working with the Contractor. I know that much. But she certainly isn't on our side yet. Now she really won't be."

"Very well… if you believe that, so be it." Jack paused, then broke out on another train of thought. "I hate to break this to you, but we were only marginally able to rebuild your body last time. It took two years and more credits than even I can fathom. In other words... death is not a viable option, my boy."

I nodded slowly. "I don't intend on dying again. I just need to find my new limits. I can't push myself like I used to. I don't have biotics, or a squad that's stronger than me."

"I pray that you may learn soon. This is only your third mission and you nearly rang the bell several times."

"I'm still having a hard time getting used to commanding a unit." I said. I knew I had made mistakes. Why did I break the squad up? And for fuck's sake, why did I have to get into that mess with the Trouble Trio? I should have ran then.

"I understand. At the very least, I am glad you were able to make it out alive and only sustain minor injuries."

Getting my thigh ripped open didn't seem like a minor injury to me. Then again, the shaving had missed the bone. So it was relatively minor, considering all possible outcomes.

"All I'm asking is that you be more careful, Forrest."

"Understood, sir."

xxxx

There was some time to spare before we headed back out into the field. For me, it was mostly time to let my leg heal and build muscle everywhere else. The invention of medigel sped up the first; the second I still had to do the old-fashioned way.

There was also time to tour the ship and see how people were doing. I had already checked with Jarka. He was unfazed by the chaos surrounding us, not at all worried that the Ortona had nearly been compounded at Tes Andria. He had laid low, let all the fuss pass over, then went to a different spaceport. He saw it all as a good challenge, training for battles to come.

For the time being, I made my way to the subdeck. I didn't bother knocking before I slipped through the narrow gap and into the red-lit confines. Torr was standing, facing the wall with a combat knife drawn as he carved into the metal panel. He didn't look over as I entered.

"I should have been there for that fight."

The Vorcha's 'greeting' surprised me, even though he did not turn to face me. I stood there by the entrance and leaned back on the wall.

"It wasn't supposed to be a fight. Anyway, you had your reasons for not being there." I pointed out.

He shook his head, not yet turning away from the wall or stopping his carvings. "All the blood in the traverse would be no excuse. I should have gotten over it."

"Yeah, well... There's nothing we can do now beside learn to expect more of the unexpected."

"I want to kill the Contractor." Torr burst out, shook his head and dropped his unfaltering gaze for a moment. "You weren't able to get the information on his location, were you?"

"No. We were too slow. I should have pushed Jack to let us go sooner. Even by a few hours... we could have been on the right track."

"And you come in here to tell me not to shred myself over the past." Torr snarled, some humor in his grating voice.

"I know." I laughed, pushing off of the wall and getting closer to see what the Vorcha was carving into the wall.

Best I could describe the sprawling mess of lines drug into the metal panel was cave art. A massive battle scene. No telling how long he had been working on it. There were details spread out over three square meters. Maybe since we had left the TIER station for the first time.

"This is what fills my head." Torr said as he etched another stick warrior in. One with two swords. Another not far away had the rough impression of a buzzaxe.

"War." I stated.

"Nothing short of bloody chaos."

I watched over the cave paintings Torr had created and realized how right he was. We had the chance to take the Contractor out while the conflict was still in its infancy, and we had lost chance. Now we had to get down and dirty. It was going to be nothing short of war. I had faced it once before, and I had an awful feeling that it was going to be worse this time around.

"I hope you're ready for the worst."

"That's not a change for me. I'll run into it without hesitation and my axe drawn back."

xxxx

I skimmed through the news. The faces had changed, but that was about it. Politics were the same as ever. Talk about moving forward, progress and cooperation between the races. A call to 'return to center' after the Reaper War. Talk everywhere. And not a whole of walk, so far as I could tell.

I shook my head as I ran through a list of newscasts. I knew I was cynical, and at the end of the day, I wouldn't dare take on their job. I could fight blade-to-blade all day long, but if I actually had to step up and take the place of any one of the politicians I so despised… No way. I couldn't do it. That was a fight out of my league, a fight so far different from what I could do.

The new Council consisted of four members. Turian, Salarian, Asari, and Human. I recognized none of them, and from what I gathered, the Turian, Salarian, and Human Councilors had all been killed or displaced during the War and subsequently replaced. All had been high-rankers in their respective governments, but that was about all I could tell. The Human and Turian were pushing for a more militant future, while the Asari and Salarian wanted to focus on rebuilding and forward progress as the "Reaper threat had passed."

I could not mock the words of the Asari Councilor. I could not prove or even say otherwise this time, and she was probably right. There wasn't a Reaper threat imminent, just a Contractor threat.

I shook my head and continued reading, moving from politics to racing news.

Sanderson Racing Enterprises now manufactured the top-performing hoverbikes. Sure, there were a few other brands in the running, but race results showed SRE bikes in all the top brackets. And racing was really the only place I saw bikes. I thought they would have taken off more in other markets, but no.

There were apparently some semi-final races happening on Earth. A nearly week-long event. If I wasn't in the middle of a small war, I would have liked to have gone.

xxxx

"Commander." Jakur acknowledged as I entered the armory. The Batarian gave me a sharp salute as he turned his back on whatever project he had going.

"At ease." Hell, it had almost become instinctual to say that when entered the armory for it was the only way to get him to behave somewhat normally.

"Sam mentioned you ran into that Spectre again…" Jakur began nervously.

I nodded. "Yeah. We scuffled. She came after me as an afterthought, I think. She was there because of the Contractor."

"Still, doesn't it worry you to have a Council Spectre hunting you down?!"

"Well, it would be a whole lot easier without… but we'll manage."

Jakur shook his head. "Maybe I'm paranoid, but… what would happen if she actually caught us? Spectres don't always play by the books!"

"We don't let that happen." I replied.

"Yeah. I guess not."

"So," I began, changing the subject. "Is there anything you need me to pick up while we're here on Illium?"

"Um, I don't think so… unless you come across a set of Millan CER-234 accelerator coils. But those are pretty rare. I still don't know why Trinder had them use those for PCRs, but they do work."

"Wouldn't basic coils work?"

"Not really. The CERs are based off of Geth technology. They can stand up to continuous plasma projectile acceleration. Standard coils get gummed up."

"Gotcha. I'll keep an eye out, then."

"I'd worry about other things in your boots, but thanks dude." Jakur nodded appreciatively. "You… uh, you don't think that Spectre would put a bounty on us, do you?"

"How can she when nobody even knows who we are?" I pointed out. "I don't think she would do that even if she could. We've got someone who wants to stay above the scum of our likes."

"You don't think she'll come after us, then?"

"Oh, she will. But we'll be able to keep our distance. I don't think she'll want to talk things out anymore."

Jakur nodded slowly. He still seemed uncertain of the whole deal. "When I was Illium, I saw Spectres do some nasty things in order to get their targets. I.. I guess I've got a respect for their authority and really don't like going against it."

"I don't either. But unless you want to sit in a jail cell with your hands under your ass while the Contractor burns everything to the ground…"

"…We don't have much of a choice." Jakur finished for me. "I get it. It's our best bet, but I still don't like it."

"Fair enough. I don't like it either." I admitted.

"Ok. I don't mean to be paranoid, commander. I'll drop it for now."

"Alright. If you have any other concerns or ideas I can still listen." I offered.

"Thanks. Will do, sir." The soldier replied. "With that in a grave, I've got something I'd like to talk about."

"I'm listening."

"Well…" Jakur began, popping his neck as he rolled his head to each side. "MR13 pistols come with Millan CEP coils. I got looking into it a little bit, and Legacy Armaments makes a replacement coil that might be worth upgrading to."

"Is that right, eh? What's the benefit?"

"They're designed so that the coils are more efficient and use less power per shot. Less power, less heat. They're also a few grams lighter per coil."

"And the MR13 has four coils, right?"

"Right. Most pistols only have two, so it wouldn't be worth the bother. But with four it would make a difference."

I shook my head, holding back a smile as I thought about how I wanted to do the mods myself. But I figured Jakur could do a decent job. "Alright. Go for it. Just make sure my MR13's ready for the next mission."

The Batarian stared at me for several seconds, mouth partially agape. "How… but how did you know that's what I was ask you?"

"Just a hunch."

xxxx

I swept along the Nos Astra skyway as nothing but a shadow without a caster. I had waited until night had fallen on the planet; I had donned a black cloak that fell clear to the floor and had a hood that fell over my blank faceplate. As I walked along, it might not have been so evident that I was an assassin armed with two tech-blade katanas (for wandering about, that was all I had chosen to bring).

Shuttles had paid me no mind as I kept my head low and my faceplate hidden. Illium wasn't the place to be suspicious of suspicious individuals.

So there I was, moving along a narrow skyway between towers in a business district. It must have been about midnight local time, as the sun had been down for hours but the city was still fully alive. Lights shone bright all about and many towers were lit up with floodlights for a glamorous effect. The open, unprotected skyway was relatively calm, but every now and then a gust of wind would come from the side.

One such gust hit just as I was edging by a small group of giggling and in all likelihood intoxicated citizens. They were probably hopping between nightclubs; I assumed as much since I had seen several clubs on my travels that night. Suddenly they fell hushed. I doubt it was the lazy glance I cast towards them. It could have had something to do with my briefly exposed assassin armor, the tight weave suit with metal reinforcement along the forearms and critical points.

I kept walking.

Before long, I was back inside a tower where the hallways were bright and clean, aluminum-looking floor polished.

There were open shops all about. Everything you could imagine, too. From E-magazines to hovercar showrooms to armor cleaners. Little caught my attention. I kept walking.

Finally, a small and dark store, more of a hole in the wall than anything else, but as I saw the poorly done, and nearly broken sign that read AIs and Ship IMFs, I was struck by an idea. The Ortona didn't have anything like an artificial or virtual intelligence system, and as we had found out, was incredibly vulnerable to cyberattacks. If I could acquire a quantum black box, or whatever they called the things that housed AIs… maybe I could change that.

I stepped into the hole-in-the-wall shop.

It was dark, but it was not pretty. The shop itself was tiny, no more than three by four meters of floorspace, but the walls were lined with shelves filled with all kinds of crap. Everything from old omni-tools to large, black boxes that had a few network connections.

I looked around for a minute before someone called out.

"Hey! What can I help ya with?"

I glanced towards the high, diminutive voice and saw a small Asari poking her head out from behind the desk. Small as in young. If she had been human, I would have said eight or nine. Since she was Asari, I had no idea. Being unsure what else to do, I turned to face her and nodded. "Hey. I'm looking for a quantum black-box dealio."

The young, blankface looked at me for several seconds, surveying me from head to toe, then replied. "Sure, I think we have a few lying around. What kind of processing power do you need?"

"I'm not sure. I need the best to go up against the worst."

She stared for another few seconds. I didn't like the way the young Asari gazed at me; that gaze rendered my helmet useless to hide my face. "Ooooh. You're not talking about the Contractor, are you?"

I nodded.

"You're crazy. That's so awesome!" She punched the air excitedly and continued. "My grandma helped take down the Contractor back in 2012!"

"Is that right?" I asked, trying not to show too much interest as my heart jumped and I was tempted to ask who that was.

"Yeah! She was just an adept in the Crimson Cavalry. She's got awesome stories about this fight on some ice planet."

"The same Crimson Cavalry that was lead by Ryala T'Deras?"

"Ooo! You've actually heard of her? Captain Ryala?!" The little Asari shouted, pulling her shoulders back and driving them forward to imitate a biotic charge. Then she laughed. "I've never met a human who heard of her! Have you met her? Is she as awesome as in the stories?"

"Yeah. I've seen her fight. Talk about a warrior." I chuckled to myself, knowing I wasn't even lying.

"Wow! Could she really charge? Like, with biotics?" She persisted.

I nodded. "Oh yeah."

The little Asari had just opened her mouth to keep hamming on when an older, weary looking matron came through a door behind the desk. The elder glanced over the situation for a moment then scolded, "Miri, are you causing trouble again?"

"No, Tia! I was just telling the human about Captain Ryala!"

The matron rolled her eyes. "Not this again… how many times have I told you not to bother customers with those stories?"

"It's fine." I interjected. "I actually enjoyed hearing about that."

The older Asari turned her careful watch to me, nodding slowly and regarding me skeptically. "How can you be so sure he's even human?"

"Don't be silly!" The little Asari giggled. "Everything about him is human. You don't need to see past that helmet to know that!"

"Very well…" The older Asari shook her head, softening slightly. "What can I do for you then?"

"He's looking for a quantum blue box." The little one piped up before I had a chance to say a word. "He's going after the Contractor!"

The matron shook her head. "Miri, please… you shouldn't pester customers with this nonsense." She turned back to me. "I'm sorry, sir… She has quite an imagination sometimes."

"And what if I'm actually going after the Contractor?" I asked.

The elder Asari tensed. "Then you're insane. I won't stop you, but I have to ask… why? Why would you throw your life away for something like that?"

"The Contractor fell before. I've got a score to settle this time around." I said, voice blunt as I didn't bother to hide my resentment.

"He knows Ryala too!" The little one insisted, beaming as she tugged on the matron's sleeve.

The elder shook her head and let out a sigh. "I don't doubt you have your reasons. Now, let's see what kind of blue box we can get set up for you… What kind of ship do you have?"

"It's an ex-Alliance frigate." I explained. "Currently without any AI."

"Very well. I can get you a high-range, Millan box for twelve-thousand credits. It's high memory, high-frequency."

"What about the Ariake model?" Miri pestered.

"That's twenty thousand credits." The older Asari pointed out. "It's a better option, but…"

What, I'm not that rich? I thought vindictively. "Does it come with software?"

"A basic AI, yes." The matron replied.

"Fine. I'll take it." I said, drawing a TIER credit chit. With inflation, that wasn't a whole lot of credits. At least that's what I told myself.

The matron didn't fuss much more and went to get a blue box from a shelf behind the desk and then proceeded to run her omni-tool over it and bring up bill. She was noticeably uncomfortable as she took the chit from my armored hand, but said nothing even as she stared right at the holstered tech katanas on my forearms. After a few seconds she passed the chit back, as well as the box. "Here you are."

The little Asari had not taken her eyes off of me. Somehow she knew when I glanced at her and she grinned, ear-to-ear as if I was a normal person, not a cyborg hidden behind a blank faceplate. Miri. The name seemed to fit.

"Thanks." I replied. I couldn't take much more of that innocent stare; eyes that didn't see what I was and what I had done. I took my blue box and I started towards the exit.

"If you see Ryala, say hi to her for me please!" Miri shouted out after me.

I glanced back; I glanced back and I nodded at the Young Asari. Then as I stepped into the street, a connection formed and a name dusted off old memories.

Tyva. That was what I'd heard as the Asari Spectre's name. I knew only one Tyva. T'Deras, Ryala's younger sister. She'd still been in a coma from the first Contractor War when… well, that was last I had heard of her. I frowned as I walked along the skyway, buildings to my left, cityscape to the right. She was the only Tyva I knew in the whole galaxy, and I doubted there was just one. No way the freelancer could have moved to Council level. That was assuming she ever recovered and wasn't dead.

Having the Contractor hunt me down was one thing. I was always looking for a fight there. But a Spectre? I didn't much like the options that left. I didn't like running.

xxxx

"You got a blue box?" Jarka protested, slurring his words as he spun around in his seat. "Those are nothing but trouble!"

"Give me a little bit of time to get it set up." I replied, trying to smooth things over. "It'll help. Otherwise, I'll take responsibility and unplug the damn thing."

"Fine. But it's your neck, not mine. I won't take the fall for any damages the Ortona incurs."

"Fair enough." I shrugged, and stared away from the cockpit. "Anyway, I thought I would at least warn you."

"That's the very least you could do for including an artificial intelligence in my ship."

I shook my head. I had figured Jarka wouldn't be happy, but I didn't expect him to be so hostile. So I continued on down the bridge and across the combat center. The main power and network connection were on the lower deck in what was effectively a closet. So I headed that way.

Everyone else was busy working away still as I wandered across the ship and down the stairs. Since I had returned from my errands, I had left the blue box in the network setup and changed out of my armor. Casual wear was still more comfortable around the ship.

I cracked my remaining organic knuckles. It was crunch time.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I plugged the box in. Thankfully, we had all the connections to begin with. Truth was, I was uneasy as I entered the network room for a second time. I could have a rogue AI on my hands. It might not even work or even interface with the ship.

What could possibly go wrong? I asked myself, knowing damn well the short answer was 'a lot.'

Without further hesitation, I got to work in the small confines, first connecting the power and initiating a start sequence. As I watched through my omni-tool, I could see a basic AI was loading. That was encouraging, even if was slow. Then again, it probably didn't have to reboot very often. I figured, if worse came to worse, it wasn't connected to our ship. Hell, the blue box was just sitting there on a small shelf.

Then I was struck with another terrible idea. "If I'm nothing but programming now, then…" I murmured, thinking aloud. Seemed reasonable enough to copy some of my processes over to the AI. Reaper software should give us an edge, right?

TIER's modifications in rebuilding me had removed all of my wireless data communication links. So I was left to dig into my right forearm and find a hard connection left of my omni-tool unit, underneath several layers of synthetic leather and other protection. It was just a small output jack. A TIER technician had told me it was used to monitor neural activity when they first powered me back up. And now, there I was plugging a line into it with the intention of copying some of my runtimes.

A red flash pulsed through my head as I plugged the cable into the blue box. Moments later, the familiar crimson coding sprang up around the edges of my vision.

/

External hardware detected…

…

Allow access?

Access allowed.

Temporarily deactivating access safeguards. (State: read only)

…

Copying core intelligence and combat processes to external unit…

…

Complete.

/

I stared at the blue box as it immediately went into a reboot sequence, then unplugged the cable from my arm. The red binary retreated from my vision and I shook my head. I hoped that I had not made a another mistake.

The AI finally booted up, nothing more than a small, holographic and vaguely humanoid bust projecting above the box. It was clear at first, then distorted three times before making any movements. Then it remained, a yellow form that looked somewhat similar to a human or Asari face, sans ears, fringe, or hair. It glanced around for a second. At least, its image glanced around.

Then it spoke, a surprisingly well-intoned female voice. "This is strange. I do not recall having an awareness of my hardware connections, or lack thereof."

I watched it carefully. "You're aware of what's around you?"

"Yes." The holo responded, turning its head to me.

"Alright. What are you capable of?"

"I was designed as a cyber security specialist for a freighter, and many of my processes pertain to that function. However, I am detecting… new software installed. I am unsure of how I will be able to use it to strengthen defensive and offensive postures. For the time being, I am detecting heightened self-awareness and increase of the number of threads dedicated to thought processes."

"I just uploaded some new coding. Hence the change." I explained. "So, do you have a name?"

"I was referred to as model IVI474, but I would prefer 'Maya.'" The holo replied.

"Alright then, Maya. Do you have any allegiances I should know about?" I took a half step back and folded my arms.

"I was programmed to protect the ship in which I was installed, as well as the crew that I shared that ship with. Those still seem like logical parameters. If you attempt to protect me, I shall do the same."

I nodded slowly and thought the predicament through. If I plugged this AI into our ship, I would be putting everything at risk. But if Maya would really help us, then it was worth the risk. "Fine. I'm going to trust you with hardware access to the Ortona. Please don't make me regret this."

Neither of us said a word as I fished out the loose cables, perhaps from when this ship had an AI or VI, and sorted them out. Three in total. Heavy cables, lots of small wires inside. Lots of control. Power over the entire ship. I hesitated.

Maya seemed to sense that and said, "I understand your reluctance to allocate core control. I will do my best to ensure that I do not mistreat your trust."

I shook my head one more time, and then plugged the cables in. One right after another. When the third was seated, I stepped back and watched the holo.

Nothing happened for several seconds.

Then the holo disappeared from atop the quantum blue box and the lights throughout the entire ship dimmed and nearly went out. The power core spun up, whining in a new, higher frequency. I shielded my face instinctively, fearing that the worst would come to pass.

Thankfully I was wrong. The lights returned; the core idled down. The holo returned on top of the blue box, with the small figure going through the motions of popping its neck. It began, "My apologies. I did not realize this was such a small ship. I had to readjust many of my processes to account for that."

I nodded hesitantly. "Right… so now you have control over what, exactly?"

"I see core power, shield generators, weapons, wireless attacks, ship hardware, life support systems, artificial gravity, lighting… nearly every electronically controlled function of this ship. I must say it feels… rather satisfying to have a body of sorts."

I raised my eyebrow, nearly questioning the AI on feeling a specific way until I remembered that it did have some of my own processes. In all likelihood, I had inadvertently unchained the AI.

"I will require some time to adjust to this new ship and integrate new software, including updated cyberwarfare suites." Maya continued. "In the meantime, I recognize the IMF of this ship as TIER. A declassified Alliance project. Who may you be?"

"Commander Forrest Jackson." I replied. I didn't know what else I could say, really.

"I cannot locate your identity on any Alliance databases."

"Unless you have access to pre-Alliance data, then you probably won't. I… don't officially exist."

"Yet you are standing in front of me." Maya pointed out, an almost curious edge to her voice. "This is peculiar, but it is not a priority task. What would you like my first focus to be while connected to the Ortona?"

"If you can, get everything up to spec and make sure we can resist any major cyber attacks and launch our own. If you look through the logs, you might be able to get an idea of what we are going up against."

"Yes. I see that now." The hologram nodded. "Very well. I will divert my attention warfare suites. If there is anything I can do, please inform me. Otherwise I will continue my current tasks and attempt to integrate myself amongst your crew."

xxxx

"I can't believe you." Jarka shook his head, setting down a bottle of some strong Batarian whiskey. The Salarian was in no condition to fly, and he sat his chair sideways with one leg over the rest and the other draped off the side. "Not only do you incorporate an unidentified AI in our ship, but while you're at it, you decide it would be a good idea to unchain it!"

"That was sort of side effect." I admitted. "Have you had any problems with it yet?"

"No, but but but-!" Jarka protested, reaching for the bottle, missing, and immediately giving up. "We just got through a war where artificial intelligence nearly wiped us all out! No, giving an AI control like that isn't a good idea!"

"I'm pretty sure there's a difference between this blue box and a Reaper fleet." I pointed out.

"Besides," Samantha suddenly interjected, leaning against the wall at the back of the cockpit and watching Jarka and I. "Maya seems alright. She helped me figure out some targeting parameters on my Doomsday armor that could be used for the whole TIER army."

"That's even worse!" Jarka fussed. "It's already gotten your trust! Have you people learned nothing?"

Sam and I looked each other and shrugged. I said, "Well, we'll see. The fact of the matter is, we almost got roasted because we didn't have a cyberwarfare setup. If we're going up against the Contractor in space, that's only going to more critical."

Our pilot let out an exasperated growl.

"I'll just let you be…" I teased, turned to Sam, nodded, and began down the bridge and left the mumbling Salarian behind.

"So…" The Doomsday armor operator began as we walked along. "Did I ever tell you about my first experience with an AI?"

"No, I don't think you did."

"Well then." Sam was grinning. "It was back on the Citadel. I found this old, pre-war Quantum box in the junk piles. I fiddled around with it for a while and finally got it running. Sure, it was old, slow and somewhat corrupt, but it still worked. So, being lazy as I was, I figured I could program it to take care of most of my chores."

"And?"

She laughed nervously. "It didn't work out quite so well. Instead of doing the assigned tasks, it readjusted our financial ledgers from two months, ordered three crates of Ryncol, and set off the fire-system sprinklers outside our shop. It was such a mess. I had to actually work overtime for like a month. It was awful. And when I was caught back up, I found another, newer AI and assigned it to clean up the old, corrupt one. It was crazy. They both went along for a little while, then bam! They just went out in a puff of smoke. I never figured out why. There must have been compatibility issues that I couldn't figure out, but… Yeah…"

Sam trailed off and stared ahead, across the combat area. I followed her gaze to our resident psycho Vorcha.

Torr was making his way towards at a fast walk, swinging his axe about, even spinning himself around once as he moved along. "Forrest!"

"What's up?"

"The ship…" The Vorcha began. "The ship just tried talking to me. Asked why I was carving in the wall."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Why can the ship see those carvings?" He shook his head. "I don't like it. I don't like the feeling of being watched."

"Alright, tell the AI to lay off the subdeck surveillance."

"I didn't think of that." Torr seemed to frown so much as his taught mouth would allow. "Wait, do you think it could find war novels for me?"

"Probably." I replied.

"And translate them?"

"Maybe. You could ask."

"Haha! They tried to keep me off the extranet once… fools. I'll show them. I'll show them that nothing can hold me back." The Vorcha twitched, spun on his heels, and darted back towards the stairs.

Sam looked at me and shook her head. Neither of us said a word until Torr was gone.

"You've starting to have quite the squad here. Full of strange people." She noted.

I nodded.

"If I had time, I think I could draw a whole series about this waltz. Seriously, we've only been on three missions and -" She paused long enough to laugh, then continued. "Yeah. There's tons of ideas drifting around the ship."

"You'd do something like that if you had time?" I asked.

"Oh for sure. I used to draw all the time when I was younger. Now I kinda miss it. My parents thought it was funny and cute, but I totally loved it."

"Well, maybe when you're just sitting around…"

"Hey, no fair! I need time to think too! This stuff doesn't just bam! spring into my mind or anything. There's a serious effort there."

I raised my eyebrow at her.

"Alright, so sometimes that happens, but seriously, some of my best work has come with time to think." She paused. Added begrudgingly: "Ok, fine. There's been like one or two."

"Well. If that's what it takes to keep you going on the squad, I'm fine with it. Just… make sure your work gets done, alright?"

xxxx