Chapter Nine – Persuasion Tactics
As ever, my thanks goes to nycarts, my beta-reader, for her patience and support.
Also, there is a line Jack says at some point that I gleefully stole from Saints Row: The Third. Other than that, the usual disclaimer applies.
". . . But I really think you should let the dead rest. This isn't what I brought Shepard back for," Liara said firmly. "This is almost like—like—"
"Like something the Collectors would have done?" Miranda asked, glancing at her briefly. "We don't know what they would have done, Liara"—she beckoned at the group of scientists hovering over the human Spectre's vegetative form—"though hopefully the information you brought back may suggest something. And it might not be as bad as you think."
"She's practically dead, Miranda," Liara snapped, feeling a surge of anger press against her chest. With hands that shook, she stepped forward and leaned against the glass window, holding onto its frame tightly. "You said it yourself. It's best not to hope."
"We're willing to spend everything we've got because we still believe it's possible," Miranda said evenly. "But it will take time. Time you need not spend waiting here."
The words struck her like a hammer blow, stunning her momentarily. Keeping her gaze locked towards the distant figure of her dead lover, she took long, deep breaths and gathered her crippled dignity, cradling it inwards. "And Feron?"
"The drell knew the risks when he offered to help. We won't be going after him. If you want to that's your business. But I'd focus on something else if I were you."
She frowned, loathing Miranda's dismissive tone. Cerberus might have gone to her first to get Shepard back, but now that she'd outlived her usefulness in their eyes, they were no longer circumspect around her. The prejudice she'd heard so much about regarding this pro-human group had finally reared its ugly head, making her falter in her decision to hand Shepard over to them.
Let the dead rest, she thought again, anxiety gnawing at her insides, weakening her hold on her biotic powers. Seeing the window crack in front of her, she grimaced and pulled away, embarrassed at her loss of control. She turned to apologize to Miranda, but found that the woman had already left.
So what'll it be, Liara? She bit her lower lip—a mannerism she'd picked up from Shepard—and drew her attention inward, into the cobweb of memories that served as her guide. There was no greater teacher than experience, and the asari were particularly gifted at remembering.
"Death comes naturally to us all," a tutor from her childhood years whispered to her now. Liara could remember her austere attire, her withered visage, and her long, thin lips which pursed at the slightest offense. "When our consciousness flees from our mortal bodies and back into the vast basin of the universe, we become one with everything once more, until such a time when our spiritual energy becomes needed again to breathe new life into the world. To fight against death-inevitable would be heresy." She'd been a fervent siarist follower, and disapproved of other races trying to prolong their life-spans to match the asari's incredibly long ones. Thinking of her had always soured Liara's mood as it did now.
In any case, it would be disrespectful of her to preach siarist doctrine to them just to justify burying Shepard's body—disrespectful, yes, but mostly foolish, considering it was Cerberus she was up against; arguing against them would be futile.
"Wasn't there a saying?" Shepard asked, appearing in her palace of memories—her stance casual, her smile dizzyingly familiar. "If you lie down with dogs, you'll get up with fleas."
Ah, but those words had been for a different time, when Cerberus had clearly been in the wrong, conducting experiments on whoever they could get their hands on. Shepard had used that saying then, to discourage Cerberus agents from trying to 'convert' her to their cause.
But isn't this no different?
Fear caused her throat to constrict as images of a changed Shepard surfaced from her mind. Would they turn her into a monster as they did the colonial pioneer team in Chasca? Or the rachni in Nepmos and Altahe? She shuddered at the thought and banished the image of Shepard from her mind.
Fixing her gaze once more towards her beloved commander, she felt the ghost of Miranda's hand on her shoulder: meant to comfort and to congratulate. In that moment, she remembered her accommodating smile—the faint attraction between them, mutual in its superficiality. She remembered the reassuring tone, the hint of something genuine behind that affable facade. Most importantly perhaps, she remembered the steel in Miranda's silvery blue eyes, the determination in her lifted chin.
"We're her best chance, Liara."
In the end, that seemed better than the finality of death.
Bodies shifted uneasily, rubbing against each other, creating friction in a room already torrid with heat and unspoken tension. Long, shapely legs moved back and forth, following the length of the U-shaped conference table while folded arms betrayed an anger on the verge of release. An audible swoosh came from the double doors, training all eyes towards the figure stumbling in. The drell, New Virmire's pilot and sometimes assistant to the Shadow Broker, had a number of star charts obstructing his view and had not realized that everyone had gone completely still at his arrival.
"Sorry I'm late, guys," Feron began, abruptly dropping the charts beside the table before dusting off his hands. "I thought we could use these when we start"—he paused, suddenly aware of his former employer frowning reprovingly at him—"I take it this is a bad time?"
"Oh no, Feron. You came at just the right time," Miranda drawled and moved past him, her attention directed once more towards the others. "We were about to discuss how your idiot crew managed to lose Shepard."
"Maybe you should ask Cerberus what happened," grumbled an indignant Tali.
"Oh, I'm well aware of who is to blame," Miranda retorted, bracing herself against the table, giving the appearance of a predator about to spring on its prey. "But I'm not here to point fingers."
"Really? Because it sounds like you are."
"Plug in your damn tampons and let's move the fuck on," Jack piped in, earning a smothered giggle from one of her students and confused glances from the others.
"Look, I don't know what the hell a tampon is, but I'm not about to let her accuse us of letting Shepard get kidnapped. We all knew the stakes when we went in to Benning. We all knew it could have been a trap."
"What matters now is how we resolve this," reasoned Legion.
"Yes, because with the Reaper war already upon us, we totally have time to do a side-mission," one of the quarian admirals muttered to herself.
"Shepard made time for us," Tali snarled even as Miranda said, "Rescuing Shepard is hardly a side-mission."
"Then I don't see why we need to keep squabbling like junior assistants over who is in the wrong here," the quarian retorted. "I hardly think your commander will approve of all of this finger pointing."
"Our success rate will increase exponentially if we work together," Legion added, ever helpful.
"The geth makes a good point, Ms. Lawson. Your intentions are benign, I'm sure, but sowing dissent among our people is hardly beneficial, don't you think?"
Miranda turned around, her stance aggressive as she faced the newcomer, dark energy pulsing on the surface of her skin. A part of her that still saw things from the eyes of a Cerberus operative bared its teeth at the salarian scum standing in front of her. How dare he imply that she was purposefully sabotaging the crew's rapport! She was simply giving them a taste of real discipline, something the current leadership had neglected to do in Shepard's absence.
Do you truly think that? voiced the more reasonable part of her brain. It sounded suspiciously like Shepard's voice: calm and commanding with a hint of wry.
Of course not, Miranda thought, easing into a more relaxed position, her haughty exterior already back in place. It'll take more than a two-bit insult to infuriate me. "Major Kirrahe. Nice of you to join us."
"Forgive me, Ms. Lawson," he said, putting a slight emphasis on her civilian honorific as he circled around her to stand in front of his crew, "but there were other matters I had to attend to first."
Indeed, she thought, eyeing him coolly. Everything he had done since interrupting their meeting had been intentional, Miranda knew—meant to remind her of his superior rank within the ship. In retrospect, her actions had bordered mutinous, given that she had not asked for his permission to assemble the crew and interrogate them over what had happened. There had been a chain of command, and Miranda had deliberately ignored it.
I should not have come.
She'd gone freelance for a reason. Despite giving Cerberus the finger and going rogue, she was still the black sheep in the family. For the others, she'd been the visible antagonist in their little space opera for so long that some suspicion still remained. After all, it was hard to trust someone who was familiar with betrayal. With Shepard gone, they might ask themselves who would keep her in line.
It certainly didn't help that she had far too much pride to defer to another's authority.
"Well then. Now that we've had that sorted out, I believe it's time I take my leave," Miranda announced, taking pleasure in the startled glances she'd provoked. "You are in capable hands, I'm sure," she added sardonically, smiling at Kirrahe. "Best of luck."
"Wait a goddamn second now," Jack growled, taking a stand between her and the door. "You're tellin' me after all the hard work I put into dragging your sorry ass back here, you're just gonna up and leave?"
"I'm hardly needed," Miranda began.
"You don't get to play that game with me."
Exasperated, she retorted, "And what exactly do you want me to say, Jack? That I'm leaving because I don't exactly feel safe here?" She laughed bitterly. "We both agreed Shepard was a target, but you told me it was fine because she was safe—because she was untouchable. I guess we were both wrong—I especially for coming here."
"No one could have anticipated this would happen," protested Legion.
"Trust a machine to understand what guilt feels like," she snarled in reply, her patience running thin.
"What did we say about pointing fingers?" Jack asked, wagging hers. "I think someone needs a time out."
"What? And a good spanking?" Miranda snorted. "I'm flattered, really, but you're not my type."
Sensing that she'd struck a nerve, she acted just as Jack's hands flared with opposition, the violent indigo glow of her awakened powers slamming against Miranda just as she was about to prepare a counter offense. Struggling against the tightening grip of Jack's stasis field, she bared her teeth, all pretense of civility gone.
Jack raised her chin in response, meeting her glare with equal intensity. In a quiet, even tone, she said, "You really don't know how to play nice, do you?"
"Says the one who hit me first!"
"Right." Jack rolled her eyes and turned around, hands braced against her hips. "Whelp, you sorry lot better scarper off because this shit here's no longer your goddamn business." To Major Kirrahe, who'd been watching them with a neutral expression, she gestured, palm up, lips twisting into a mordant smile. "All yours, Chief. I hope you got more patience than a krogan has balls because otherwise, she'll get under your skin real fast."
Kirrahe tilted his head, spreading his hands outward—the picture of modesty. "Oh I'm sure it will not come to that. Not if she's willing to listen to what I have to say."
All he could do was listen to the sound of gunfire and explosions coming from the other side of the terminal, the slight tremors of battle causing the containment pod to shake uncontrollably. Even the small window that allowed him to see what was going on outside revealed little, smoke covering the immediate area. Like his krogan companion, he remained motionless, his countenance one of mild disinterest, belying the frustration he felt at being unable to do more. He had told them before that the STG base in Sur'Kesh was not equipped to handle a long siege, but his colleagues had not listened, and now they were experiencing the consequences of ignoring his counsel. With sickening certainty, he knew that the damage would have been far worse had the Reapers gotten to them first.
His shoulders twitched at the sight of a Cerberus soldier approaching them, smoke curling across his broad form.
"Dr. Mordin," the soldier greeted him with a nod of respect, holstering his weapon in a gesture of peace. "Your talents are needed elsewhere. We were sent here to"—he paused, his gaze flickering upwards, towards the female krogan—"act as your escort." Relaxing his stance, he added smoothly, "This is all just a big misunderstanding really. We came here to get you, so why not come with us—put an end to this needless bloodshed?" Behind him, the last of the smoke billowed outwards as two mechs landed nearby, heading for the narrow staircase where Liara and the others were taking cover.
An intimidation tactic. Nothing new. Nothing Mordin hadn't dealt with before.
"Call back your people. Then we talk," he retorted.
"Can I trust your friends not to shoot mine if they do withdraw?"
"Likewise," Mordin said, tone flat and dismissive.
The soldier let out an audible sigh and motioned for one of his engineers to come closer, pointing at the metal frame that protected Mordin from his would-be captors. "I don't care how big of a hole you make. I want that salarian out and in our shuttle in ten."
"What about the asari?" One of his subordinates asked, piquing Mordin's curiosity.
"It doesn't matter," he growled. "The boss said we just needed one of them back."
"He said—"
"Unless you have something positive to add to this conversation I suggest you keep your mouth shut and do as you're told, soldier."
With a mocking salute, the Cerberus engineer returned to his task, using his omni-tool to carve a hole on the containment pod. Preoccupied with his work, he didn't notice Mordin making a move until it was too late; the metal 'door' he was working on slammed against him, sending him tumbling backwards. A burst of electricity kept him on his knees and paralyzed his superior. Looking up, the last thing he saw was the muzzle of an M-6 Carnifex before blinding pain and sudden darkness overtook him.
Not one to waste time, Mordin turned and slammed an omni-blade against the centurion's throat, detaching the blade with practiced ease before ducking behind a nearby console. He looked around, assessing the situation quickly, and grabbed a grenade from the soldier he'd just killed. Throwing it overhead, he made a run for the opposite direction, ignoring the yells of surprise from a brace of soldiers who had just spotted him. He slid underneath a Cerberus mech just as the grenade detonated, pointing his omni-tool towards the Atlas's joints and freezing them.
"Dr. Mordin!"
"Krogan still in danger," he supplied coolly, rolling to his feet. "Secure the area. Leave them to me."
The three faltered, glancing at each other uncertainly, not wanting to leave the salarian behind to deal with two towering mechs.
"Go!"
Mordin pressed his body against an Atlas's leg, making it harder for the mech's counterpart to shoot him without damaging the other. Garrus, who was the last to pass by the salarian, shoved a Cerberus Harrier into his arms and gave him a meaningful look before trailing after the others. Chuckling, Mordin shot another bolt of electricity at the Atlas closer to him, stripping away the last of its kinetic barrier. Holstering his pistol, he adjusted his grip on the Cerberus Harrier and watched as the other mech tried to squeeze past its companion. He knew he had to act quickly; the ice that kept his Atlas in place would soon thaw, and if the Atlas could move, destroying them would be considerably harder.
His eyes fell on the Atlas's bent leg, an idea forming in his mind. Pointing the harrier at the exposed metal strips that gave the mech its mobility, he emptied the rifle's thermal clip into the joint, jamming the gun in to keep that leg from moving entirely. He felt the Atlas's upper body shift for another attack and rolled away, just missing the Atlas's metal claw, which had slammed into the ground next to him. Taking opportunity of the closer distance, he grabbed the Carnifex from his hip and shot at the glass canopy, his third shot passing by a small crack and ricocheting into the pilot's chest, killing him instantly.
Scrambling to his feet, he retreated down some stairs and hid behind the railing to reload, his omni-tool warm against his skin, still recovering from the slew of commands he'd executed. Focused on the second behemoth, he almost missed the sound of someone landing just a few feet behind him. Steam rose from his omni-tool as he turned around, sparks flying as he lifted the newly-formed omni-blade to block the katana that was about to lop his head off. He pulled away and shot at his lithe attacker, circling around her so that she stood between him and the Atlas that was making its way towards them. Parrying another swing, he sent a burst of electricity from his omni-blade, causing the Cerberus fighter to jerk away, almost dropping her weapon. She let out a feral cry and pointed her free hand towards him, violent energy erupting from an open palm. With no time to dodge the attack, Mordin raised both arms to block, the blade shattering into several pieces, drawing superficial cuts across his face. Stumbling back, he tried to retaliate with a stream of fire, but the woman had managed to draw closer, grabbing his forearm and redirecting the fire elsewhere.
He hit the scorched floor with a thud, arm twisted behind him, his M-6 Carnifex no longer within reach.
"The Illusive Man sends his regards," he heard his attacker mutter just before the hilt of her katana connected with his head, plunging him into the darkness.
Scant light illuminated the storage area underneath the Engineering Deck, throwing shadows wherever Tali passed—shadows that danced to the percussive rhythm of her back-and-forth stalk. "This is stupid. Why can't we just go and rescue Shepard now?"
"Until we can pinpoint Shepard-Commander's exact location, there is nothing we can do. It would be inefficient and a waste of our resources if we were to go after her without a more detailed plan," the slate-coloured geth replied evenly.
"So we find some bloody bosh'tets and beat the information out of them."
"If you wish to pursue such leads, then why not wait until we've rendezvoused with the others? Surely the Shadow Broker's people are better equipped for this kind of mission."
Letting out an irritated sigh, she stopped and directed her full attention towards Legion. "So you're asking me to wait."
"Not asking so much as suggesting."
"With all due respect, sir," Chikita interrupted, "waiting might not be a viable option. Shepard-Commander is our greatest supporter. Without her, we cannot be certain how the others will treat us. We were, after all, part of the opposing side when this all first began."
Tali blinked, surprised that Chikita would rise to her defense. This was the first time she'd seen the geth arguing and it seemed so alien and surreal. The geth had always presented a united front for the most part. Sure she'd seen evidence of them disagreeing—otherwise the trouble with the heretics would have never happened—but they had always kept it to themselves, taking up their arguments within the geth consensus. Too see it now before her was just so bizarre.
"Do you not believe in their capacity to forgive?"
I wouldn't, Tali thought, feeling fiercely certain of herself. People can hold on to grudges for a long time. It's just so much easier to hate than to forgive.
If Legion's question was eerie to Tali, Chikita's answer was even more so. "What would John do?"
A silent understanding passed between the two, making Tali's curiosity grow even more. About to ask, she was interrupted by the sound of footfalls echoing down the stairs. "Ah! There you guys are," Feron said, clumsily walking down the last couple of steps, still carrying an armful of star charts. "Thought I'd find you here. Not that I should be surprised really. This was Shepard's favourite hangout too."
Kasumi, who knew better than to bring up their missing commander, punched Feron in the arm and waved at them. "We just thought we'd share the news with you. Or at least what gossip we've mongered from Kirrahe's personnel."
"We're going to the Citadel!" Feron quipped, not one to lose momentum. He dumped his star charts in an empty storage bin and dusted his hands in a job well done. "Or at least, I think we are. The major wants us to meet up with Liara and the others."
"So we're really going to put off saving Shepard?" Tali asked, not caring if they heard the bitterness in her voice.
"Well, look here, Tali." Feron began. "I can call you 'Tali', right? 'Admiral' sounds a bit too formal." He chuckled and pulled out a piece of fruit from one of his pockets. Tali wasn't familiar with it, but if she were to guess, it was probably native to the hanar home-world where some drells continued to live today. "Liara's the tenacious, avenging type. She's the kind who'll tear the 'verse asunder just to find," he paused and took a bite before continuing, "the people she cares about. I mean have you seen the Shadow Broker after they were done with him? 'Course you haven't. That bastard's been vaporized, last I heard."
"What he means is that Liara probably won't forgive us if we went looking for Shepard without her," Kasumi clarified.
"But it was our fault," Tali protested. "Shouldn't looking for her be our first priority—even if it's just us five? If Liara really wants to come with us, then she should just catch up."
"And what? Fuck this mission up even more?" Feron shrugged. "Bad enough that we lost her. Do you really think running off on a fool's errand will make things better? We wait, gather intel, and then move out. No point in chasing after our own tails."
"Besides," Kasumi interjected, "we might not be officially part of the military, but we're still Shepard's crew. If we went off now without telling anyone, they could call it treason and imprison us when we return."
"That's absurd!"
"So is imprisoning Shepard for blowing up the Bahak system to give us a couple more months," Kasumi countered.
"Hey! That was before the Reapers arrived."
"Are you saying that now that they're here, anything goes?"
"Well—going off to save someone is vastly different from almost killing an entire species."
Legion stepped forward, positioning himself between the two. "Obedience is key to the military's success. It doesn't matter if what we do is justified or not. What matters is that we follow protocol."
"Cerberus used to be part of the military," Kasumi added, her gaze fixed at Tali. "And look what they're doing now because they think they know better."
"Fine!" Tali growled, exasperated at how reasonable they sounded. Feeling Chikita's hand on her shoulder, she relaxed visibly and folded her arms. "But you better not argue with me once we do decide who gets to save Shepard because I'm going."
Feron gave her a knowing smile. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Oriana always thought New Ilos was massive compared to the other ships she'd been on. However, now that it was filling up with refugees and soldiers that they had hired, it seemed suddenly smaller somehow. Not that she missed the emptiness of it, but she had certainly felt a childish giddiness at first—at the thought of having so big a place to explore.
Walking past a pair of biotic users from the Jon Grissom Academy, she felt a small smile tug at her lips. They seemed in awe of the place, and tittered among themselves as they pointed out new sights that were alien to them. She was like that at first, admiring the fascinating, newly-developed technology that came with the ship. It was a combined effort between the Citadel races, with turian technology being the most prominent. With a sizable number of dreadnoughts at their disposal, it only made sense that they knew the most when it came to crafting one.
It was truly admirable, the things that they could build when they put their differences aside and worked together. Pity, it took an intergalactic war for them to do just that. And a certain bright-eyed Shepard, Oriana thought, so very like the goddess of war and wisdom. She giggled at the reference—something she'd learned from one of her many tutors—and looked down at the datapad she carried, the news of their commander's disappearance turning her mood sombre once more.
Being the Shadow Broker's assistant, she'd grown fond of Liara, who reminded her in some ways of her once-estranged sibling. Both had a sharp mind, and an exacting way of doing things. Both were strong-willed and incredibly kind, though unlike Liara, her sister was less likely to show it.
Both also cared very deeply for Shepard—which seemed to be the reason behind their apparent rivalry.
Not that either would admit to disliking the other.
Still, she worried about those two. Familiar with their tenacity and their compulsion to shape the outcome, it was quite possible that the two would butt heads over Shepard's predicament. Both were used to command; she couldn't imagine either of them relinquishing it so easily.
Nevertheless, she had made her decision to tell Liara about Shepard. The asari was her superior after all; there would be repercussions if she kept things from the Shadow Broker.
Stepping inside her personal rooms, she nodded briefly at her three assistants who were busily working away at redirecting transmissions. About to head for her desk, she was stopped by the youngest of the three: a quarian still on his pilgrimage whom they had found in the area, scavenging for ship parts. "We've managed to isolate their location to the first quadrant," he said excitedly, his eyes shining behind his mask. "Of course with Reaper activity it'll take some time before our agents can scour the area, but at least now we can start eliminating false leads."
Oriana grinned back, relieved at the news. Sure they were still no closer to finding Shepard's whereabouts, but it was nice to know that she had some good news to relay to Liara this time—even if it was just a possible location to Cerberus's headquarters. Progress, she thought. Thanking the three for their hard work, she returned to her desk, already mentally composing a report for her superior.
It's time to do my part in all this.
For an AI with an entire ship's resources at her disposal, slipping past the Shadow Broker's firewalls was unsurprisingly easy. Not that EDI was about to complain. Being stuck inside the Normandy, there was very little for her to do besides keep Joker company. It was true that she was also largely responsible for keeping their ship afloat, but such things were trivial—especially for an AI that had originated from Reaper technology.
Thus, she found herself at an impasse on what to do after having downloaded most of Liara's correspondence with her assistant spymaster. For a brief moment, she wished Shepard was there so that she could ask guidance from the commander herself. Ironic, considering the problem centred around her.
Do I alert the others that Shepard has been kidnapped? Or trust in our XO to tell them when the time is right?
Protocol dictated that she keep quiet. Shepard had, after all, left the ship in Liara's capable hands. However, Liara was the commander's lover, and EDI knew that such bonds could interfere with her work, as well as the success of her current and future missions. The fact that she had not alerted her crew before heading to Sur'Kesh was troubling enough to EDI. Did Liara mean to keep this information to herself and search for Shepard on her own? EDI knew it would be foolish to try; there were much bigger things at stake than an asari's arrogance.
Because why else would she insist for so long to hunt the Shadow Broker on her own if not for that? She had worked with Cerberus before—surely saving her friend would have been no different?
Shaking her head, EDI got up and left the mess hall, mentally disconnecting from Liara's private terminal. Having exhausted all possible courses of action, she needed a new perspective, and that meant picking at an organic's brain. Joker's maybe?
No. He was the suspicious type, and would ask questions she wasn't willing to answer.
Stepping into the elevator, her synthetic eyes alighted on the first button that would bring her to the captain's quarters. "What would Shepard do?" she wondered to herself, voice soft. Sudden inspiration caused her to smile. The commander might not be there to answer her questions, but some of her things still remained. Since the woman was thorough when it came to recording everything—a habit she'd picked up since returning to the land of the living—perhaps EDI would find answers among her personal logs.
They were likely to be heavily encrypted, of course, but she wasn't too discouraged. After all, she was an expert by now in sneaking past electronic defenses.
Kirrahe wore command like a second skin, his back straight, and his demeanour cool. Watching the former Cerberus agent struggle through large, unblinking eyes, he considered his next words carefully. Normally, he preferred to be blunt with his dealings, but certain circumstances kept him from acting so rashly.
Circumstances for instance, regarding his next deployment.
As an auxiliary force working with the Alliance, he not only answered to Shepard, but also to Shepard's superiors, who headed the Human front in the war against the Reapers. His loyalty may be to his home-world first, but unlike the dalatrass, self-preservation was more important to him than pride. He recognized the need for an interspecies initiative, and so volunteered himself at the first opportunity. Initially, that meant overseeing the creation of the New Virmire, a near-identical ship to the Normandy. But now that his job was done, he was being recalled by the Alliance. From the hints that they had dropped, it appeared that his experience as a former STG agent would be far more useful in the field. That meant finding a suitable replacement for the New Virmire.
"Would you like to take over the captaincy of this vessel?" he inquired mildly, startling the two out of their staring match.
"I'm not about to pry it from of your dead body, if that's what you're implying," Miranda retorted, bristling.
Maintaining a benevolent expression, he said, "It was more like an offer." And a means to an end.
"You sure about that?" Jack asked. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not suffer under her tyranny again."
"Oh, I wouldn't have to," he said, allowing a hint of smugness to colour his tone. "Not for long anyway. If you and your friends insist on pursuing Shepard's captors, then I can relieve you of your geth and quarian allies. I'm sure they would only slow you down."
"Right," Miranda drawled, eyeing him suspiciously. "And what would you have them do? Reinforce Sur'Kesh?" She snorted. "They haven't even been attacked yet."
"On the contrary, I do believe they're currently under siege. By Cerberus no less."
She growled and broke free of her restraints, her body limned with the purple fire of her biotic power. Stalking towards the salarian, she stopped when her face was a few inches from his. "You lie."
"Even that's a low blow coming from you," Jack said, her gaze flickering warily towards Miranda. "I mean, Cerberus already fucked up when they kidnapped Shepard. I wouldn't go about talking shit about them, especially not around head bitch over there. It's kind of a touchy subject."
"I do speak the truth," Kirrahe said in a gentle, soothing tone that was meant to mollify the human standing before him. "I was trying to contact Shepard's XO earlier but heard that she was preoccupied in Sur'Kesh. Unfortunately, I am as much in the dark as you are as to why Cerberus is there."
His words, he knew, were beginning to have an effect on her. Although he had offered her the chance at taking over the New Virmire, he had done her no favours in insulting her repeatedly, especially in front of someone she disliked. She would not trust him in the least. It was a pity, but he would have to live with it if things were to go as planned.
"Fine," she conceded. "But I'm not letting you out of my sight. New Virmire is mine. And you? I'm handing you and the others to the Alliance military as soon as we get back to the Citadel. Don't think for a second you're going to get away with funneling our resources elsewhere."
"I didn't consider it even for a moment," he said, lips twisting in a sardonic smile.
What was the human idiom again? Ah, hook, line, and sinker.
Calibrations were the last thing on Garrus's mind when he stumbled into the main battery, the weight of recent events bearing down on him—heavier than the Armax Arsenal chest plate he wore. Settling on top of an empty storage unit, he worked on removing both arm guards, sluggish fingers fumbling in the dim light.
"Let me help you with that," Liara offered by the time he'd moved on to his chest plate, stubborn straps refusing to yield under his scrutiny.
He looked up and saw that she was by the door, waiting for his invitation to come in. He hesitated briefly and considered turning her away. It wasn't that he was . . . embarrassed at the thought of stripping before his XO. But she had kept something from them, and he wasn't sure he liked what that implied.
"It's the least I can do," she added softly, fatigue evident her in slouched shoulders and drooping gaze.
"Fine, but you better take a seat," he said, already scooting aside and patting the empty space beside him. "You look like you're ready to drop dead on your feet."
"That's fair, I suppose." She took the proffered seat and turned her attention towards the abandoned straps he'd been trying to loosen earlier, working through them by trial and error. He watched her for a while, uncomfortable with their close proximity yet fascinated by her deft fingers. Sometimes he forgot how truly capable she was.
Gone was the damsel in distress they had saved back in Therum, and in her place was a stranger: cool, confident, and unrelenting. He hadn't really noticed it before—had assumed that the Liara Shepard had brought back from Mars was the same fragile Liara he had come to know during their stay in the Normandy's previous incarnation. He hadn't really given her credit for the things she had done—spirits, she'd gone toe to toe with the Shadow Broker for crying out loud!—and had arrogantly underestimated her. His jaw tightened, and his skin darkened with shame and resentment. Perhaps if he had treated her with more respect, she would have trusted him more. Then maybe, just maybe, she would have told him about Shepard's kidnapping sooner; hearing about it on Sur'Kesh had felt like a blow to the gut—made worse by Mordin's kidnapping afterwards.
I asked for her permission to attend the War Summit because I thought she couldn't handle the dalatrass on her own, he thought bitterly. And now I'm angry at her because she didn't tell me about Shepard? How fucking ironic.
"I should have told you sooner," she said, startling him out of his thoughts. Unsettled by the accuracy of her words, he almost accused her of invading his mind without permission. Instead, he stayed his tongue and forced himself to meet her deep, blue eyes, his own slate-gray expectant.
She lifted her hands and tugged, reminding him of his earlier task. Obediently, he removed his chest armour and propped it on the floor, reaching for a clean rag he could use to dry his sweat.
"I had to know for certain," she said, once his attention was elsewhere. "I didn't want to cause panic, and there was the War Summit to consider. I worried that if I told you—any of you—someone would find an excuse to stall things."
Garrus flinched. "Like the dalatrass."
She inclined her head in assent. "A lot of our support rides on Shepard's success. If word got out that she's been taken . . ."
"The War Summit would be the least of our problems," he supplied, feeling suddenly foolish for doubting Liara.
She nodded, hands twisting the hem of her shirt nervously. "I-I couldn't make her my first priority, you know? So I had to keep quiet. Because if I had told someone . . ." She breathed out a sigh of frustration and raised her chin, her gaze resolute. "War Summit be damned. I would have left everything and gone after her."
"I know." He took her shaking hands in his and offered her a half-smile. "You made the right choice," he said, though it pained him to say the words.
About to protest, Liara heard the doors opening and pulled away, unused to receiving comfort in front of others. She caught a glimpse of the bemused comm. specialist by the door, Wrex, Eve and James crowding behind her. Embarrassed, Liara folded her arms and assumed an expression of indifference. "Did you need anything?"
"They were looking for you," Traynor stuttered and took a step back. Uncertain of what else to say, she muttered, "I should go," and left hurriedly.
"Ugly as ever, I see," Wrex teased as he stepped inside the main battery. "Maybe if you put a shirt on the girl wouldn't have run away."
"Oh I don't know about that, Wrex," Garrus said, leaning back a little to give all of them a full view of his torso. "I hear krogan women are crazy about scars."
"Mostly we're crazy about inflicting them," Eve said dryly.
"Right." Garrus chuckled. "So what brings you to my humble abode?"
Wrex straightened and bared his teeth, his hand dangerously close to the shotgun at his hip. "Padok tells me I can't have my cure until we get the good doctor back."
Everyone tensed at his words and looked at each other helplessly. James, who'd been uneasy since they arrived at Sur'Kesh, muttered, "Goddamn pendejos."
The meaning was not lost on them; although Cerberus was responsible for kidnapping Mordin, they all shouldered the blame and felt like idiots for leaving him to deal with the Atlases alone. They had prioritized Eve's rescue, and had let their guard down because they assumed that Liara was the intended target all along. If Cerberus is really working on that Prothean device they found on Mars, it makes more sense for them to abduct the one who's an expert at the subject. And with Shepard gone . . . "We couldn't have known," Garrus said firmly. "We heard chatter from a Cerberus comm. link that they were interested in Liara—told their people to attack only when they'd seen her."
"If they had wanted Eve dead, they would have concentrated on attacking the containment pod while it was still in transit," Liara explained. "Instead, they purposely waited in each of the clearance points where we would have had to make contact with Mordin."
"So why take him instead?" Wrex asked.
"Because Cerberus wants to recruit him for something," Eve interjected, startling them. "They didn't say what, but from what I heard, it was either him or you, Dr. T'Soni."
"But Mordin's a geneticist. Why recruit him?"
"Goddess." Liara turned towards Garrus. "They've done it before, remember? Organic experimentation using Reaper technology. If they can reverse engineer the Reapers' foot soldiers, they might be able to figure out how to control them."
"I thought the Crucible was supposed to keep them busy!"
"If those two things eventually lead to the same goal, then it isn't as farfetched as you might think." Liara activated her omni-tool and brought out a number of schematics and diagrams from one of her folders. "We didn't retrieve as much information about the device as I would have liked, but from what I had studied in my time in Mars, I know that this thing is connected to the mass relay network. If they succeed in modifying the Crucible . . ." She paused and took a deep breath. "Have you heard of an ansible?"
"It's a pretty popular term among human science fiction writers," James answered. "Um, I think it's supposed to be capable of instantaneous communication?" Annoyed at their incredulous looks, he grumbled, "I read too you know."
"Anyway," Liara cut in, shooting him an apologetic smile, "imagine an ansible capable of controlling the Reapers. If they could use the mass relays to do just that, we'd have a new empire with humanity at the head of it."
"Slow down, T'Soni. Not everyone can speak 'Shepard'," Wrex interrupted. "And not everyone gives a salarian's ass about what Cerberus is up to. You promised us a cure. If Mordin isn't here to help us make it, then just get your girlfriend on the line and ask her to do it for us. She's plenty smart right?"
"Cerberus kidnapped Shepard too," Garrus said quietly.
Wrex roared and picked up Garrus by his neck, slamming him against the wall. "What the hell did you just say?"
"Cerberus took Shepard," Garrus repeated in between gasps of air.
"Why does no one tell me these things?" he demanded.
"Because you'd react like that?" Eve said mildly.
"Look, we didn't say anything because we wanted to help you first," James said. He placed a hand around Wrex's wrist and tugged hard, forcing Wrex to release Garrus from his grip. "We'll get you your damn cure eventually, so why don't you fucking stand down and un-shove your head from your fucking ass."
Wrex bristled. "I am Urdnot Wrex, leader of Clan Urdnot and one of the last of the Krogan Battlemasters. Don't you dare boss me around, midget."
"Fuck you too, bitch."
"Enough—both of you!" Eve snarled, planting herself firmly between the two. "We may be at war, but that doesn't mean you have to treat everything like a battlefield!"
"Stay out of this," Wrex grumbled.
"Stay out of this?" Eve crossed her arms and glared. "This is the future of my children too, Wrex. In fact, it might not have gotten into your thick skull, but this cure you're so eager to get your grubby hands on is a part of me—and I say, it is my prerogative to decide what to do with it."
"You're not going to throw this away, are you?"
"Of course not. But I won't make rash decisions either." To Liara, she said, "Dr. Mordin told me once that I could have sanctuary in New Ilos if I so desired. Will you extend that invitation to my people as well?"
Liara hesitated and averted her gaze. "I cannot guarantee for certain, not when New Ilos can only take so many. But if Shepard did succeed in getting the quarians' cooperation, I am sure their liveships are more than capable of sheltering your people."
"We are not abandoning our home-world!" Wrex snapped.
"Even if it means leaving our people vulnerable?" Eve asked. "I may not know much about what is going on outside of these walls, Wrex, but I can tell you this much. The Reapers are after us. Not our home-worlds. Not our resources. Us," she said, prodding a finger against his chest. "If we get our people out of Tuchanka, not only do we stand a better chance of surviving, but our people will be in a safe environment when the time comes to administer the cure." She leaned forward and said in a tone as cool as ice, "Maelon might have had good intentions, but his methods were not always ethical. If you want what is best for our people, then we do this the proper way or not at all. Exercise some patience, Urdnot Wrex. You'll live a long time yet."
They heard the clang of metal landing on the floor and saw that Wrex had dropped his knife in front Eve. To Garrus, who'd learned much about the krogans during his training as an officer for the turian army, it appeared to be a gesture of defeat. He relaxed and watched in amusement as Wrex turned on his heel and left in a huff, the double doors swooshing shut behind him.
"What the hell was that all about?" James asked, breaking the silence.
"A surrender," Eve said. Though they couldn't see her expression because of the veils that hid her face, they could tell that she was pleased. "And a marriage proposal." Slowly, she bent her knees and picked up the knife, tucking it reverently against her belt.
"Really?" Garrus laughed and rose to his feet, rubbing a sore spot along the curve of his spine. "And here I was thinking it means you've agreed not to stab each other in the back."
"Which often makes for a long companionship," Eve said.
"So what now, Blue?" James asked and slung an arm around Liara. "Are we gonna look for Lola or what?"
"Have I given you permission to be buddy-buddy with me, Lieutenant Vega?" she drawled, flexing her biotic muscles.
He yelped and recoiled from the sting of dark energy now pulsing around her. "Hey! What was that for?"
She punched his arm and gave him a weary grin. "That's Executive Officer T'Soni to you, James. At least until we're off duty."
"But you've never complained before!"
"I'm complaining now," she retorted playfully.
They heard the telltale crackle of the intercom and paused, exchanging worried glances. "Liara, our friends from New Virmire want to rendezvous in the Citadel. Your orders?"
"Set a course, Joker," said Liara, her countenance unreadable once more. "And tell New Ilos I want them a star system away—preferably here in the Annos Basin. It's time we start coordinating with our Alliance friends. Especially if we're to evacuate the krogans off Tuchanka soon."