Author's note: Believe it or not but this story is already over 100k words. Woot! Where do I get my Fan Fiction veteran badge? Okay, maybe not veteran but a specialist badge. I think I earned that.
Also, DamonMaddox gets a tasty Internet cookie for being the hundredth person to make this story his favorite!
There is another issue I wanted to address before we continue. I think it is safe to assume that most of you (if not everyone) played the ME3 demo. Do you want to know what I disliked the most? The penalty for using tech armor. I mean, seriously – 80 percent increase of cooldown time for all powers? I had to physically restrain Victoria from blowing up the Bioware's office.
As for what I liked the most: Kodiaks. Yes, Kodiaks. With guns. And you know what I think? I think that my current Kodiak has them too! That changes things, well, quite a bit actually. ;)
Chapter 10: Whatever you do, the eldar do it better.
Location: Serpent Nebula, Boltzmann System, orbit of planet Bekenstein, Normandy's cargo hold.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
Six shots had hit the impromptu target dead in the center. If the spectators didn't know better, they might have thought that the target was hit by a single heavy caliber round.
"So, it's actually a skill," Garrus commented.
"What?" August asked as he collapsed the heavy pistol and placed it on the table before him.
"Your accuracy. We were all wandering whether your precise shooting is because of the small recoil of your weapon or because of your own experience and training," the turian explained.
"I see," Gallardi nodded. "Las weapons indeed have very small recoil. But I was trained to use a large variety of weapons, including projectile weapons like autoguns, stubbers and even bolt pistols. In fact, your mass accelerators have less recoil than powder based weaponry of the Imperium, therefore they don't impair my accuracy too much."
"Makes sense, since you're Special Forces," Jacob said. He looked at the pistol Gallardi was using. "So, what do you think?"
August took the pistol and activated it once again. He weighed it in his hand, checking the balance. "I'll take it," he collapsed the weapon and placed in the holster. "Although it will be ironic to use this particular gun."
"What do you mean?" Garrus asked him.
"The weapons designation, M-6 Carnifex," August replied. "Do you know what Carnifex means?"
Garrus simply shrugged, clearly not familiar with the term.
"It means 'butcher' in ancient Latin," Jacob supplied.
"It means the same thing in High Gothic," Gallardi said with a nod. "It is also a designation for one of the most fierce tyranid monstrosities. Imagine a beast size of a house with long, diamond hard talons capable of cutting open a battle tank. Their thick hides are impervious to small arms fire and it requires several shots from anti-tank weaponry to take them out."
"Lost many good men fighting those bastards," August added with a sigh. "Now, it seems I will have to trust one in battle."
Garrus chuckled. "As you humans say - the irony is thick here."
August heard the elevator's door open and turned to see Kasumi stagger out carrying a box filled with what looked like assorted weapons and pieces of armor.
"Can a girl get some help over here?" Kasumi asked.
Jacob was the first to react as he rushed to assist the struggling woman.
"My hero," Kasumi said with a smile as she gladly passed the crate to Jacob. "I wonder how Shepard manages to wear all that stuff and still run around and fight."
She motioned for Jacob to follow her and walked toward one of the metal crates standing in the cargo hold. She opened one of the side panels and August saw a statue of a turian hidden inside.
"Huh, never thought I'd see him ever again," Garrus muttered and started to approach the statue. Curious of the statue, Gallardi followed the turian.
"He looks somewhat familiar, even for me," August noted.
"It's Saren," Garrus explained.
"Ah, it was the traitor Spectre you people defeated two years ago, wasn't he?" Gallardi remembered the said turian's image from the Extranet.
"Yes, although I don't know why anyone would make a statue of him nowadays," Garrus mused.
"They don't," Kasumi cheerfully said as she lowered herself down, clicked something on the pedestal and revealed hidden compartment within. She started placing the armor and weapons inside. "This one was made shortly after Saren was made Spectre. I managed to... acquire it two years ago when it was moved from its usual place on the Citadel."
She finished placing the gear into the compartment. She clicked a hidden button once again and the pedestal closed, hiding its dangerous cargo.
"So this is the way you're going to smuggle weapons inside the estate?" Gallardi asked her. They were briefed earlier about upcoming operation. The plan was that Shepard and Goto were going to infiltrate a social event, which was held by some kind of criminal arms dealer, in order to retrieve a device called "graybox". Kasumi explained to him that this device was a sort of cybernetic implant that was placed inside the man's brain in order to record everything the person sees. This particular graybox belonged to Kasumi's former partner in crime, Keiji Okuda. It seems that the man managed to record some dangerous intelligence. Intelligence that got him killed.
While Kasumi honestly stated that she wanted to retrieve the said graybox only to have a reminder of her late friend, she also said that Keiji managed to warn her that the information he had was dangerous. Something that could seriously hurt the Systems Alliance's reputation and all of humanity by extension. This was a very good reason for everyone, including August, to perform this kind of operation.
"Indeed," Kasumi replied with a smile. "Shepard is going to present this to our host, as a token of appreciation."
"And he is going to accept this?" Gallardi asked incredulously. "A statue of an avowed enemy of Mankind?"
"Hock has a rather... eccentric taste."
"Is that how you call it?" August asked. "Back in the Imperium we have a much shorter and more informative term - heresy."
"Having something like this could get you in jail?" Jacob asked him.
"In jail?" August asked again. Then he remembered that local laws are probably less severe than those of the Imperium, and replied. "I suppose you could spend some time in Inquisitorial dungeons, but only if they think you might know something important and they need to keep you somewhere during the process of interrogation. Other than that, the penalty for heresy is death."
"Ouch," Jacob said with a wince.
The sound of the elevator's opening once again made everyone turn to see the arrival. A woman dressed in a long evening black dress with silver accessories gracefully stepped out of the lift. It took a couple of seconds for Gallardi to realize that the said woman was in fact Commander Shepard. Seeing her without armor or her usual black uniform was a bit strange, although August had to agree that she was a pleasing sight to see.
"Well, that is not something you see every day," Garrus muttered.
"We agree on that," Jacob echoed the turian.
Shepard approached them with a coy smile.
"Gentlemen, you all have a look on your faces as if you have seen something impossible," the Commander said. "I not entirely unfeminine, you know."
Both Garrus and Jacob started to stutter with excuses when Kasumi interrupted. "Don't listen to them Shep, you look great! You should wear this stuff more often."
Shepard looked at Gallardi. "What about you, Captain? What's your opinion?"
August smiled. "Well, your dress is a bit modest for an Imperial noble, but I don't know the latest trends here, so I suppose this will be considered appropriate."
Shepard quirked her eyebrow. "Now it is my turn to be surprised. You are familiar with your nobility's fashion trends?"
"A bit. It was part of our duty for the Inquisition to perform social infiltration in order to unearth dangerous cults," Gallardi replied with a shrug. "I was part of one, although I simply played the role of a bodyguard. Sahi, our death cult assassin did most of the job."
"Somehow I can't picture someone called a 'death cult assassin' playing a role of a noble," Jacob said and crossed his arms.
"Oh, but you should. It was most entertaining," Gallardi told him. Seeing the curiosity present on everyone's faces, he started to elaborate. "Sahi was, and I pray that she still is, a master of impersonation. Imagine a woman who is always dressed in a black bodysuit, carries a deadly sword and Emperor alone knows how many other concealed weapons. When she is not deployed on the mission, she usually spends her time alone in her room, either silently reciting her oath to the Emperor or honing her skills. Usually you wouldn't hear more than two words a day from her, and those two would be 'morning' and 'evening'."
"But when such need arose, she put on one of the extremely expensive dresses we kept for such occasion, adopted a Necromundian High Spire accent and turned into Gracia Vitria Ulanti the Third - a noblewoman from one of the most famous Naval dynasties of Necromunda, renowned for her ability to speak faster than a stormbolter and also her love for all things shiny and all things mysterious," August chuckled at the memory. "The nobles were entranced by her bubbly personality; they never knew that the woman they tried to impress could kill them with her pinky finger."
"Never thought your Inquisition worked that way," Kasumi said. "I thought you were more of 'throw into the dungeon and torture until you get confession' type."
"I assure you, Miss Goto, a lot of inquisitors act exactly that way," August told her. "But most of inquisitors prefer to act more subtly. In fact, from what I learned of the Council Spectres, they are not all too dissimilar. Both can act outside of the law and report only to the highest authority. Of course, the Spectres lack the Inquisitorial mandate. It gives the inquisitor a near unlimited power – member of the Holy Ordos can commission service of every loyal subject of the Emperor: from simple peasant to the planetary governor."
Victoria chuckled. "So, technically I'm an inquisitor? Why do I suddenly have an urge to get myself a coat with high collar and a broad-brim hat?"
"Don't forget about the cape," August noted and the whole company, except Garrus, burst into laughter.
"I should probably study this in the free time, because I didn't get the joke," the turian noted, clearly confused.
There was more laughter.
"Alright Kasumi, we should get moving," Shepard told the thief. "We don't want to be late for the party, are we?"
Gallardi and Jacob closed the cargo box that contained Saren's statue, and started to move it into the shuttle when something caught August's attention. He looked up at the window that allowed people to overlook the cargo hold from the engineering level and saw the eldar standing there. The Farseer seemed to be studying Shepard for a moment, when her shoulders sagged and she turned around and entered the elevator. A moment later the lift's doors in the cargo hold opened and Maeteris approached the group.
Maeteris studied Shepard's face more intently. Victoria suddenly felt a bit nervous under the eldar's judging gaze. She tried to smother some nonexistent quirks on her dress, perfectly aware that the gown fit her perfectly. Yet still there was disapproval in the Farseer's eyes.
"What? Is there something wrong with me?" Shepard managed.
Maeteris sighed deeply and face palmed herself. Then she spoke.
Although it was insulting to call that a speech. Maeteris almost sang. She sang on some unknown language, probably some eldar dialect. The language was impossibly melodic and graceful, more that even Traditional Asari with its particular purring accent, and that one was considered the most beautiful language in the Galaxy. Victoria briefly wondered just how crude and unimaginative Maeteris found human languages.
The first one to react to the eldar's phrase was Kasumi. She let her face slacken, as if she was drooling.
"I don't know what you said, but say it again!" Kasumi almost pleaded.
Maeteris rolled her eyes. "What I said was: how you humans reached the stars in the first place is beyond me."
She took Shepard's hand and started to tow her towards the elevator.
"Maeteris, what is wrong?" Victoria asked, unable to hide her bewilderment.
"Your makeup is wrong," the Farseer stated with all seriousness.
"My… makeup?" Shepard thought to herself. "What does makeup have to do with anything?"
As the elevator ascended to the first level, Shepard turned to face the eldar.
"Alright, what's wrong with my face," Victoria asked the Farseer.
"It is not done properly. Granted, you managed to hide most of the flaws on your face in order to make yourself more appealing," Maeteris replied. "But that is not what is required for this mission."
"What is required than?" Shepard queried.
"You will pose yourself as a leader of a mercenary group, correct?" The Farseer asked her. Not waiting for an answer, she continued. "You will be a woman of power and ruthlessness, and you will have to look and act like one. This is clearly not the case at the moment. Right now you look more like a rich pampered child, who spends too much time in training facilities."
"Thanks," Victoria replied indignantly. Sometimes Maeteris could be really blunt.
The Farseer shook her head. "I do not mean to insult you, Commander. I merely stated what I see when I look at you. And while you're capable of great many things, you're not a master of makeup."
"But you are?" Shepard asked incredulously. So far she didn't see the eldar wear any makeup, not that she needed one – the Farseer's face was perfect. The greatest Galaxy's models would probably sell their souls for a face like that.
The elevator door opened at the loft and Maeteris stepped out. "I will let my actions speak for me."
They entered Victoria's quarters. Maeteris briefly looked around and then turned to address Shepard.
"Now, I need you to clean your face completely. Then, we shall begin."
Victoria sighed and let her shoulders sag. "Is this really necessary Maeteris? I spent over half an hour applying this."
"It is absolutely necessary," the Farseer stated firmly. "And it would take far less time with me doing this."
Seeing that the issue would not be dropped, Victoria complied. She entered her bathroom and in two minutes her face was completely clean. Several surgical scars glowed dimly at the edges of her face.
"Very good," the Farseer declared as Shepard exited her bathroom. "Now, where is…?"
Victoria figured that the eldar was probably referring to a set of cosmetics Shepard used previously. It was lent to her by Kasumi and was very extensive, which was odd considering that the thief hid her face under a hood most of the time. Shepard took it out of a drawer and placed it on her desk. Maeteris opened it and started rummaging through its contents.
"So many things… Almost all of them useless," the eldar muttered. "I'll only need this… this and this."
She turned to look at Victoria. "Sit."
Shepard did as she was told.
"Now, let's see…" Maeteris said as she began to work.
Three minutes later…
"There, it's done," Maeteris declared.
"What? But you just started!" Shepard exclaimed.
Maeteris simply passed her the mirror.
"Oh, come on you really want me to believe that you… Oh," Victoria said as she stared at her reflection.
Only it was not Victoria Shepard who was staring back at her from the mirror. This woman was… someone else. Victoria could not detect any traces of makeup on her reflection's face. It was so subtle but it changed everything. It was as if someone placed a mask on her face or that she has undergone an extensive plastic surgery.
"Is this me?" Victoria asked.
"No," Maeteris replied. "This is… Allison Gunn I believe was your alias, wasn't it?"
"Yes," Victoria confirmed, still a bit entranced by the changes in her face. Victoria was never a narcissist, but if heart was not taken, she would have surely fallen in love with the woman in the mirror. This… Allison Gunn had a dark beauty Shepard was not aware she could possess. The woman in the mirror was also dangerous. So dangerous that it would scare away lesser men but attract others. "Someone like Donovan Hock," Victoria thought to herself.
"Maeteris, this is just… Wow!" Shepard said as she finally managed to tear her gaze from the mirror.
"Yes, judging by your reaction we have achieved the required result," the Farseer said with a nod. "Now, stand up. We are not done yet."
Shepard stood up and allowed Maeteris to lead her into her bathroom. There they both stood in front of a big mirror.
"First, do not smile, like you always do," the eldar continued. "It is endearing and it has won you the adoration and loyalty of many people in the past. But you're not Commander Shepard. Today, you are Allison Gunn – a ruthless mercenary captain, who fought her way from the bottom to the top, relying mostly on herself. You do not smile. Not every day. When you look at people they should either fear you or consider themselves glad that you even allowed their existence. Your smile should be a reward only for the most worthy. Those who receive your smile will lose their heads and become complacent, thinking that they have won you over. That would be a moment when you deliver your strike."
"How do you know all this?" Victoria asked the Farseer.
"I wasn't born a Seer," Maeteris replied with a shrug. "I was a warrior before and an artist long before that."
"You were an artist?" Shepard queried. "What did you do?"
"I was a musician, a dancer," the eldar replied. "And of course I performed in the theater."
"You were a musician? What was your instrument?" Victoria asked, surprised to find a kindred soul. Shepard herself was fairly good with guitars. Lately she missed being able to pull some strings before going to sleep ever since her previous acoustic guitar was destroyed with the previous Normandy. Victoria has yet to buy herself a new one.
"Mine was a wraithbone horn," the eldar said.
"What was its sound like?" Shepard asked her.
"It is... difficult to describe with words. You must hear it for yourself," Maeteris replied with just a slight hint of longing in her voice. "And since there currently no means of creating a wraithbone, I'm afraid you'll never know."
"That's a pity," Shepard said with awe. "I think I can safely say that everyone would love to hear about that part of your life from you. That is, if you'll be willing to tell us, of course."
Maeteris' face was neutral for a moment. "Maybe one day, I will. But you should be on your way; your social event waits for you. Just remember – today, you're not Victoria Shepard."
Victoria removed a smile from her face and spoke to her reflection with steel in her voice. "Yes. My name is Allison Gunn."
As Maeteris followed the Commander out of the bathroom she noticed as Shepard briefly stopped to look at something on her desk. The Farseer looked over the human's shoulder and saw a picture of an alien woman, an asari. Slightly familiar with some of the human customs, Maeteris knew that they liked to carry such mementos with them – pictures of family, closest friends and comrades. And loved ones, of course. Judging by the warm affection Shepard radiated towards the person in the picture, the said asari was the latter. Maeteris quickly looked away – in eldar society, intimate matters like these concerned only those two involved and no one else. Everything stayed behind closed doors. So whatever sort of relationship Shepard had with this asari was not the Farseer's business.
Yet as she continued to follow Shepard to the elevator, there was one curious aspect of this revelation that interested Maeteris. She studied some of the races that inhabited this Galaxy, and already knew that many sentient beings, asari in particular, considered an interspecies relationship as something absolutely normal. Such thing was considered absolutely disgusting by the eldar, mainly because of belief in the eldar's superiority as a sentient race. It was thought that only the lowliest of beings would engage in something like this, and that such relation was only based on lust. Yet what Shepard felt for her lover was anything but lust. It was a soft and carrying feeling, something Maeteris herself felt some time ago, only it withered and died. The Farseer wondered on who was actually right in this matter: her people or the races of this Universe.
There was another thing Maeteris wondered about: whether Captain Gallardi knew about this and how he would react when he founds out?
Although it was a little less over twenty minutes since the eldar dragged the bewildered Shepard to her quarters, the rumors of a Commander's new image already reached the farthest places on the ship. The cargo hold was now filled with eager crew members - everyone was interested to see the 'New Shepard'. Almost every male crew member, and a surprising amount of the female ones, stood in a tight group besides waiting Kodiak. The last one to join them was Joker, who had his omni-tool with him to, as he said, 'make sure that such historic event was properly recorded'.
Briefly, Gallardi wondered whether he should go and check upon Commander. Emperor alone knew what that eldar had in mind, although somehow August was sure it would not be something life threatening. So far, the Farseer was mostly helpful.
Suddenly, the doors of the elevator opened and the cargo hold became deathly silent. August turned to see what the commotion was about and as both Maeteris and... someone exited the elevator. He had to blink several times to realize that the said 'someone' was once again Commander Shepard, because this time she looked completely different. It was as if someone altered her face. While original Shepard was pretty attractive, this woman was tantalizing. There was also a hidden strength behind that allure. If Shepard was dressed in appropriate armor she would have easily passed for a Canoness or an Inquisitor.
With great reluctance, August tore his gaze from the Commander to study the expressions of the other people present. Most of the men like Jacob, Donnelly and Joker were simply staring, their mouth agape. Zaeed tugged at the hem of his collar, as if he had trouble breathing. Even Garrus seemed confused, his mandibles twitching oddly.
Gallardi turned to once again to look at Shepard and saw her start to move towards the shuttle, her footsteps echoing loudly in the silent cargo hold. Maeteris didn't follow her but walked to the side and stood close to August with a satisfied half smile on her face.
"What kind of sorcery is this?" Gallardi hissed quietly at the Farseer.
"The best kind. The one that does not require any psychic talent," Maeteris replied nonchalantly. She turned to face August. "There is no spell here. Only the craft that was honed by my ancestors for many eons."
Gallardi looked once again at Shepard. "All this because of simple makeup?" he thought to himself.
"You might not want to admit it, Captain, but the eldar are better than humans at some things simply because we had more time to master those things," the Farseer added.
"Uh-huh," August said and added quietly. "Show off."
"If I wanted to, as you say, 'show off', you wouldn't have been able to tear your eyes of Commander Shepard," Maeteris told him. "Well, maybe not you, but every other man present would have been absolutely entranced."
August stared at her, unsure how to respond. "Did she just complimented my resolve or insulted me by saying that I'm so dumb I can't understand the concept of a woman's beauty?" Gallardi asked himself inwardly. The eldar never spoke plainly; there was always some hidden meaning in their words.
The Farseer turned her head to look at him but hastily turned away once she saw Gallardi staring at her, as if she didn't want to meet his gaze. Then, the eldar just stood there looking at nothing in particular before suddenly retreating towards the elevator.
Gallardi shook his head in confusion and decided to drop the issue. Most likely the eldar simply wanted to simply insult him to remind Gallardi how once again how superior her race was. August turned his sight back to the Kodiak to see that Shepard already boarded the shuttle and strapped herself into one of the couches. She turned her head to look at the assembled crew.
"I believe that we're already a bit late, Kasumi. Are you coming?" The Commander asked.
"You sure you need me for this?" The thief asked with a grin. "Hock's probably going to surrender all his riches to you as soon as you appear at his doorstep."
"Maybe, but I still need you identify the thing we are looking for," Shepard told her. She was really getting into her role.
"Makes sense," Kasumi said and jumped into the shuttle.
"Goldstein, Hawthorne," the Commander addressed the shuttle pilots. "This thing is not going to fly by itself."
"Right, on it ma'am!" Goldstein replied and nudged her co-pilot. "Move it, you oaf!"
"Huh? Oh, yeah yeah, the shuttle!" Hawthorne stuttered as he rushed into the cockpit.
Goldstein followed him. "That is a killer look, ma'am," the woman told Shepard and disappeared inside the cabin.
The shuttle's engine started to whine and the crew took several steps back. The Commander once again looked at her crew, Joker in particular.
"I'll contact you once we are done or if we need assistance, is that understood?" Shepard asked. "Joker?"
"Yes mom, I did the homework," the entranced pilot replied and immediately began to stutter, trying to correct himself. "I-I-I mean, we'll be ready, ma'am. Just give the call."
There was a burst of laughter. Joker immediately blushed deep crimson. "Yeah, yeah very funny. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll just go somewhere and die quietly."
The shuttle's door closed and moments later the craft left the Normandy's hangar.
"Great many hearts will be broken today," Gardner joked.
"You think it's going to be that simple?" Chakwas asked. "I fear there might be suicide attempts by the end of the day. If some hussy top model sees the Commander, she'll die on the spot because of jealousy."
"I wonder how Liara would have reacted to this," Joker noted absent mindedly.
Before Gallardi managed to ask him to elaborate on who Liara was, the name clicked in his head - Liara T'Soni. "So, the rumors are true..." He thought absent-mindedly. He knew that both Chakwas and Joker were part of the Commanders previous crew, so they probably knew her very well.
The strange thing was how Gallardi felt about such revelation. He knew he should feel anger, hate and disgust but instead he was simply confused. "How such thing is possible?" August asked himself. The Imperial Truth stated that those who worship or consort with aliens are weak willed traitors. That the souls of such people are dammed for eternity and there is little chance for redemption.
Yet Shepard was not weak willed. Only a day before Gallardi saw her fearlessly step inside a blazing refinery, risking her life for the sake of the few people she never knew, and those actions were just a pale reflection of her previous achievements. He didn't see her shy away from a fight and she was a strong fighter and a sound officer. If her soul is dammed than what gives her the strength she possess?
Once again, Gallardi wondered if this dimension was working on some completely different principle. Would have been easier if it did. But if didn't... Well, that raised many questions, uncomfortable questions August would rather never answer. Like whether the Imperium was right on everything? It was right on most occasions surely - the Imperial ideology managed to preserve the Mankind against the most terrible odds for more than ten thousand years and Gallardi prayed would preserve for thousands more. Still, the Imperium did not exist without mistakes like the Reign of Blood, when terrible things were committed in the Emperor's name...
Gallardi sighed deeply. Doubts. One thing August hated the most was being in doubt. For a second time he wished nothing more than to be back home fighting the enemies of the Emperor. Things were so simple back there...
Normandy's lower Engineering level
Jack wrapped herself in her bedroll once again. Briefly she wondered whether she should take Shepard's offer and move to one of those cabins on the Crew Deck. Shepard said there were decent beds there. Still, Jack was hardcore and she is not going to trade the privacy her current lair offered for some fancy bed.
Jack didn't whether it was her doing or simple exhaustion from her yesterday's practices, but she managed to get a decent sleep this time. Although, she was already awake for some time she decided she could wallow lazily a bit more.
"When I said you should practice a lot, I meant it," came the eldar's voice all of a sudden.
This time, Jack didn't jump in surprise. She was starting to get used to the alien's constant sneaking. Jack wrapped herself a bit tighter before replying.
"Go away. I haven't had a decent night's sleep because of you for days."
"You are more than well-rested right now," Maeteris told her sternly. "You are simply indulging your inner sloth. Get up."
"Fuck off, you're not my mother," Jack retorted.
"Indeed, I'm not," the Farseer said. "And I praise Isha for not blessing me with an offspring such as you."
That actually stung Jack. Immediately she got of her bedroll, approached the eldar and stared at her with a murderous glare.
"You think I'm some kind of freak, huh? That I should have never been born?" Jack asked threateningly. "You think I'm a mistake?"
At this point most people usually started to back away, stuttering with excuses. The Farseer did not even flinch. She even leaned closer to look Jack straight in the face.
"You tell me. Are you a mistake, Jacqueline?" Maeteris asked evenly.
Jack immediately backed away. "How did she..." Jack was about to ask herself when she remembered that the eldar was a mind reader.
The Farseer then simply turned around and started to walk away. She stopped briefly and spoke over her shoulder.
"Only you can truthfully answer the question that plagues you so much," the eldar said and continued walking before adding. "Continue your practice."
With a snarl, Jack grabbed a nearby metal crate and threw it using her biotics against the nearby bulkhead.
"I'm not a mistake," Jack said aloud, more to herself than anyone else. Determined to prove it she started to warm up her muscles wouldn't go numb like they did the day before.
Onboard the aircar, inbound to the estate of Donovan Hock
"You know what bothers me, Shep? We stuffed a whole arsenal inside that statue but now I'm afraid that we might not need it," Kasumi noted as she was driving the aircar towards the Hock's estate. "People are going to be so busy starring at you I could probably steal their shoes from under their feet and they wouldn't notice."
"You're worried that we might have to figure a way to smuggle them out?" Victoria asked her. Kasumi shrugged: their original plan was to infiltrate the party, get into the vault and then fight their way out using the cargo exit. Kasumi suggested that the probability of them being discovered once they enter the vault would be very high. A direct assault on the mansion was out of the question - even with Shepard's team storming the place there was a great chance Hock might escape with the graybox. Also, even with Victoria's Spectre status, this would have created a needless conflict with Bekenstein authorities.
Therefore, Kasumi's plan was their best shot. Until Maeteris involved herself. Now they actually had a chance of pulling this off without firing a single shot.
"We stick to the original plan," Shepard told the thief. "If we'll be indeed lucky enough to pull this one without a fight, it is then and only then we'll worry about getting our stuff out."
"Very well," Kasumi said with a nod. "Get ready, Miss Gunn we have arrived."
Kasumi parked the aircar in front of an enormous mansion. The car's cabin opened, allowing Victoria to step out.
"Go ahead and meet our 'honorable' host," the thief told Shepard sarcastically and activated her stealth suit. "And don't worry, I'm right behind you."
Victoria started to walk slowly towards the entrance. She saw that Saren's statue was already delivered and a merc in black variant of the Eclipse armor was doing some scans with his omni-tool. Of course, unless this particular mercenary had an omni-tool as powerful as the stationary scanners on the Citadel, he was not going to detect the hidden recess in the statue's pedestal.
Shepard approached the merc from behind. "Something wrong with the statue, young man?"
The merc turned around with an annoyed was, probably offended by the 'young man' remark. He was about to reply when he saw Victoria and simply began to stare.
"So?" Shepard repeated her question, trying her best not to show amusement at the merc's reaction.
"Y-Yes, I mean no, of course not!" The guard was muttering incomprehensively. "I was just... That is... Ordered to... well..."
Shepard dug her nails into the palm of her hand, trying to suppress the burst of laughter.
"Is there a problem," came the thickly accented male voice from the house entrance. Shepard turned to look at the speaker and saw a man dressed in exquisite white suit approach them with a purposeful gait. This was none other than Donovan Hock. The man clearly believed himself to be the king of the world. For a moment Victoria wondered whether her guise was going to work with this man when she saw that it already did. As Hock started to get closer, the change in his stature was becoming more and more apparent. His steps became less certain, and his face quickly changed from that of powerful crime lord to that of shy teenager.
The merc turned to look at his boss and started blabbering. "Uh, no sir... I was just... The scan and there was... I mean I think there was... But then..."
Hock was only half listening to him; his attention was completely focused in Shepard. "I don't think we're acquainted. Donovan Hock."
Victoria saw that Hock was about to clasp his hands behind his back, probably because of a long habit of not shaking hands with other people. But then he quickly changed his mind and offered his hand to Shepard.
"Allison Gunn," Shepard introduced herself. Playing a role of a dominating woman, Victoria decided to push it a little further and offered him her hand, palm down. Hock didn't hesitate even for a moment before eagerly grabbing her hand and placing a kiss on it. "It is such a pleasure for me to finally meet the great Mr. Hock."
"Please, call me Donovan," Hock replied with a suave smile. "I must say, Miss Gunn, those pictures in the Badass Weekly? They do not do you justice."
"The original will be always better than its pale copies," Shepard told him.
"And you are the best person to confirm that statement," Hock said and invited her into the mansion.
"Um, sir... What about..." The merc tried to attract Hock's attention.
"Get it into the vault just like everything else," Hock hissed at the guard.
"Right sir, sorry to bother you."
"Idiot," Hock muttered and turned back to Shepard with a smile on his face. "I'm sorry Miss Gunn. It is hard to find a good staff these days."
"Quickly, think what some puffed-up noble would say to this!" Victoria told herself inwardly. Keeping her face neutral she turned to address Hock.
"Oh please, Donovan, there is no such thing as 'good staff' these days," Shepard told him and continued to walk towards the mansion's exit. "They simply vary in their degrees of incompetence."
Hock chuckled. "I couldn't have said it better myself."
As they entered Hock's mansion, Shepard the spacious hall filled with people dressed in expensive suits and gowns. Some of the women were dressed far more exquisitely than Victoria, yet still she was the one getting everyone's attention. All around Shepard, people were staring at her, their previous conversations forgotten because there was only one question that bothered them right now - who is that woman?
Victoria saw an uncovered lust in the eyes of almost every man (and even several women) present, yet no one dared to make a move in Victoria's direction. She spared a sidelong glance at Hock and saw a possessive look on his face as he challenged his own guests to approach the woman he wanted all for himself. Once again it took all of Shepard's willpower not burst out laughing. She just entered the mansion and the people were already prepared to fight each other over her attention.
"I'm afraid I must leave you for a moment," Hock told her in an apologetic tone. "I must attend to my other guests. I do hope that we will have an opportunity to converse more privately later, Miss Gunn."
"Do not smile, not yet," Victoria reminded herself. She turned to Hock and nodded slightly. "I'm looking forward to it, Donovan."
Hock grinned, bowed slightly and turned to approach one of the largest groups of people. Shepard decided to mingle a bit before finding a reclusive place where she could contact Kasumi. As she glided through the crowd she received many nods and greetings from almost everyone, although she was certain that she never saw these people before. The guests were doing it out of a simple desire to somehow attract her attention.
Victoria saw that the mansion had a great balcony that was slightly less crowded, and decided to move toward it. A curious sight caught her attention - an elderly man was sitting on the couch with two identically dressed asari flanking him, most likely his escorts. On further inspection, Shepard saw that the asari were not only indeticaally dressed, they were also identical twins. "Old pervert is probably trying to compensate for something," Victoria thought to herself.
When she got closer to the couch where the said old man was sitting, Shepard saw that he almost immediately forgot about his escorts as he stared at Victoria with his mouth agape. But that was not what amused Shepard the most. The two asari were literally undressing her with their eyes, their desire was so apparent. Victoria knew that should she give them a wink, the two maidens would probably jump and tackle her on the spot.
Shepard was grinning inwardly. She was never a power-hungry woman but there was something enticing about having such strong influence over people. Victoria was certain that if right now she dropped something on the floor, dozens of people would rush to pick it up. And all this was because of makeup that was done in three minutes. "Maeteris really knows this stuff," Victoria thought to herself.
She finally managed to reach a secluded place on the balcony. After checking that there was no one in the immediate vicinity, Victoria contacted Kasumi.
"Right Kasumi, tell me you have some good news for me."
"This was fantastic job Shepard!" Kasumi replied gingerly. "Do you know that I managed to steal a million credits worth of jewelry while trying to get into Hock's private part of the mansion? You kept these people so occupied that it was a crime not to steal from them."
"Kasumi that is not what we are after," Shepard frowned.
"I know but it was like taking things from a mannequin!" The thief persisted. "Besides, we can spend this money on our noble goal saving the Galaxy, right?"
"Kasumi, the job!" Victoria reminded her.
"Right, right, the job. As I already mentioned, I managed to get into Hock's personal room," Kasumi said, returning to her more businesslike attitude. "I found the entrance to the vault. He's got the top of the line security here: Kinetic barrier, voice recognition and a DNA scanner."
"Is this going to be problematic?" Shepard asked the thief.
"Please, remember who you're talking to! It's simply a matter of time I need to open the vault," Kasumi replied. "Hock could have used a simple fifteen credits hanging lock. Would have spared us the time."
"What do you want me to do?" Victoria queried. She checked once again if anyone was listening.
"The only thing I need your help with is the recording of Hock's voice," the thief replied. "I don't think you're going to have much trouble trying to get him talking."
"All right, make sure you're ready for the recording," Shepard said and started to move back to the main hall. She scanned the room for any signs of Hock but was not able to spot him outright. Deciding that she should wait for a moment for him to appear, Victoria approached one of the abstract paintings hanging on the wall began to study it with fake interest. Personally, Shepard never understood abstract art. For her, the true beauty could only be found in natural things like sunsets, stars, nebulae and alien landscapes.
"It is called "The Dusk on Thessia"," came Hock's voice from behind Shepard. If Victoria was not a trained marine and N7 specialist, she would have jumped at the man's sudden appearance. But Shepard merely turned her head to look at him, accepting his presence.
"It was made by Fayure D'mal, and asari prodigy who was only 40 years old," Hock continued.
"Was?" Victoria asked him as she continued to study the picture.
"A most tragic story - the girl was killed on the Citadel during that whole mess with the geth," Hock elaborated. "They say that her mother, the revered Matriarch Arrenia D'mal was inconsolable over the loss of her only child. She became even more distraught when whole collection of her daughter's works was lost to the pirate attack on the ship that transported it back to Thessia. Or so they thought it was lost."
Inwardly, Shepard vowed to contact the Council of Thessia and inform the Matriarch D'mal of her daughter's paintings locations. If Hock somehow survived both Shepard and Kasumi, he was going to find out how terrible the wrath of the asari Matriarch can be.
"So daring of you to display this original work so openly," Victoria noted.
"And how do you know this is not very good copy?" Hock asked her with surprise.
"Please Donovan, why would you bother with a copy?" Shepard asked him in return. "We both know that singular people obtain such rare pieces because they appreciate its artistic value. You're not one of them. For you, it's a statement of your achievements, proof that you can own such thing because you can afford it."
Shepard turned and gave him a half smile as she continued. "It's a trophy, a trophy of a successful hunter. A most impressive trophy, I might add."
Now she had him. Victoria was certain that Hock's heart skipped a beat when she smiled to him. The man downed a glass of whiskey he had in one gulp, trying to calm himself down.
"Would you like to see some of my other... trophies?" Hock asked with apparent eagerness.
Victoria looked around the hall to see if there was anything else of note but Hock stopped her with a wave of his hand.
"Oh no, they are not here. Such rare things I keep inside my personal vault."
"If they are trophies, why they are not displayed openly?" Shepard asked.
"Trust me, when you see them, you will understand," Hock promised.
"Consider my curiosity piqued," Victoria said with a nod. She did her best not to show her excitement. The plan was working far better than she and Kasumi had hoped for. "But what about your guests? Wouldn't they feel abandoned by you?"
"I've arranged a few things to keep them occupied," Hock replied and offered her his hand. "Now, shall we?"
"Lead on," Shepard said and started to follow.
"Now we don't even need to crack open the vault?" Kasumi's voice came from Shepard's com. "Are you trying to put me out of business Shep? Now we only need to shut down the security cameras inside the vault."
Inside Hock's vault...
There were many statues inside the spacious vault - a statue of Michelangelo's David, statue of some Egyptian ruler, krogan statue, rachni statue. Even the Prothean statue like the ones Victoria saw on Ilos. But there was a part of one statue that took Shepard's breath away.
At the far end of the vault rested the head of none other but the Lady Liberty herself. The original statue was destroyed at the beginning of the Second American Civil War. When the new statue was constructed, the original's head was placed in the National Museum of American History in Washington D.C. During the war, the head disappeared mysteriously.
And now it was hidden in the vault of a crime lord. Shepard reined her anger as she approached the statue and once again slipped into her role.
"My, my, my. Hock you weren't lying," Victoria turned her head to look at the man. She decided that it was time to deliver her final blow.
Putting on her most seductive smile, Shepard almost purred to Hock. "Consider me impressed, Donovan."
She turned to look back at the statue, waiting for his response. She didn't have to wait too long as Shepard felt Hock approach her slowly and place his hands on her waistline.
"Just how... impressed are you, miss Gunn?" Hock whispered in her ear.
Victoria made a fake chuckle. "So eager, aren't you?"
"You don't know just how desirable you are right now, Allis..." Hock continued to whisper.
"Be careful Don," Shepard warned him. "We are not alone here."
"What do you mean? It's just the two of us. No one else." Hock asked her, clearly puzzled by her statement.
"Please, Donovan. Your security is probably glued to their monitors at the moment," Vitoria reminded him. She turned around to look him straight in the eyes. "I don't know about you, but I like to keep such things in private."
Hock was clearly not thinking with his head at the moment. Instead of inviting her to his room, he did what Shepard hoped he would: he activated his com and started to contact his security. Hock must have wanted her so badly that he was not taking any chances.
"Roe, this is Hock," the crime lord said into his com as he turned around made a couple of steps away from Victoria. "Deactivate all security in the vault now and do not activate it unless I specifically order you to do it."
There was a garbled reply on the other end of the line.
"I said, do it!" Hock hissed.
There was a short reply that seemed to satisfy Hock. He turned around to look at Victoria. "There, it's done. Now that we are alone... Urgh..."
Hock convulsed, as if he was electrocuted and then he fell on the floor face down. Shepard saw smirking Kasumi stand over his body.
Victoria relaxed immediately as returned to her own self.
"My God, Kasumi! Remind me to never speak badly about film or theater actors ever again!" Victoria told the thief. "I mean, they do this sort of thing their whole life! How could they stand it?"
"I don't know Shepard but let me tell you this: you were amazing!" Kasumi replied. "I promise you, when we get out of here, I'm going to steal an Oscar, a Golden Palm Branch, a Golden Lion, a Golden Globe and whatever other award there is and give them to you. You've earned them all, seriously."
"You should get two of each. The second set goes to Maeteris for best makeup," Shepard smirked.
"Deal," Kasumi replied and looked at the head of the Statue of Liberty. "Shepard, do you think we could do something about it? I mean, I'm a thief but this just wrong."
"I know," Shepard said and took out her omni-tool from her purse. She made several pictures of the head and other things present in the building. "Trust me, I already have plans that will also solve our problem with our gear."
"Good," Kasumi nodded and started to work on her own omni-tool. "Give me a few seconds to trace the graybox."
A low beeping sound started to sound from the thief's tool as she moved around the vault. Soon she stopped and picked up a small gadget lying on one of the displays.
"I found it!" Kasumi declared.
"Good, now let's get out of here," Shepard told the thief.
"How do we do it?" Kasumi asked her.
"Simple. We wait for at least ten minutes, and then we walk out of the front door!" Victoria said with a grin.
"You're sure?" Kasumi asked uncertainly.
"Trust me," Shepard assured the thief.
They started to wait. Shepard's plan was to make people think that "something" happened between her and Hock, so that her sudden leave would raise less suspicion.
Victoria saw Kasumi approach Hock's unconscious body. The thief studied the body silently for a few seconds and then made a flicking movement with her left hand. It activated her omni-tool and then, to Shepard's great surprise, it transformed into some kind of short shimmering blade. Victoria knew that Kasumi was adept at close combat but she never actually saw the thief carry any kind of bladed weapon.
Shepard knew what Kasumi was about to do and quietly approached her from behind.
"I know what you want to say Shepard," Kasumi told her in a heavy voice. "That it is wrong to kill an unconscious person. But he killed Keiji... Only because the man knew too much."
"I know, Kas, and trust me I'm not going to stop you," Victoria told her. "Just remember that this is not going to bring Keiji back. And it's really not you. You are a playful ninja. A thief with a heart of gold. A prankster. You're not a cold hearted killer."
"Yeah, I know," Kasumi said quietly. "Just promise me that we are not going to leave him like that."
"Oh don't worry, he'll get what's coming to him," Shepard promised her.
"Good," the thief nodded and deactivated her blade. "Is it time to leave?"
"Yeah, I think we can go now," Victoria said and started to move towards the elevator. "What was that thing you did with your omni-tool?"
"Oh that? It's a prototype upgrade that's called and 'Omni-blade'," Kasumi replied and activated the blade once again. "I stole it a year ago from a research facility. A handy thing to have. Word on the street is that soon those things will flood the market."
"Do you know where we can get some ahead of time?" Shepard asked the thief.
"I know a few contacts who might help with that," Kasumi replied. "I'll call them as soon as we get back on the Normandy."
Getting out of the mansion proved to be extremely easy. Once they exited Hock's private room, some of the guards started to grin lecherously at Shepard. All Victoria needed was one immolating glare towards them which, combined with her guise, forced the guards to look away in embarrassment.
As Shepard exited the mansion she approached her car and waited for Kasumi to reveal herself.
"So, we're out," Kasumi said as she deactivated her stealth field. "Now, what was that you've mentioned?"
Victoria grinned. "I think we can abuse Maeteris' gift a little bit more."
"Asari and humans are always the hardest," colonel Yanush Lisowsky of Bekenstein Security Enforcement thought to himself as he placed tiny blue dots on a miniature figurine of Liara T'Soni. Both species had very complex facial expressions and even a simple mistake could destroy the character of the figurine. Most collectors of miniatures never bothered themselves too much with faces, but Yanush was not like them. To him, every detail of the figurine was important.
Few people knew of colonel's fascination with miniatures. For him it was more than a simple hobby, it was what saved him from dying of boredom. His position of one of the most senior security officers on Bekenstein was dreadfully dull. Most of the crime on Bek was of economic nature and it was the Tax Police duty to deal with those. There was little actual homicide, burglary or any other, simpler crime. Not that Yanush thought it was a bad thing but he yearned for at least some action. Therefore, he started to paint miniatures to keep his mind entertained.
His latest project was a diorama called "The Battle for the Presidium", where Spectre Shepard's team, along with several C-sec officers were depicted fighting the geth. It was almost complete; the last piece was the member of Shepard's team, Liara T'Soni. Briefly, Lisowsky wondered what was it like fighting alongside the famous Spectre, could he have been there if he actually managed to pass that qualification test for C-sec three years ago.
Yanush sighed. People like him were destined for simpler things, like this boring posting on Bekenstein. Nothing happened here.
"Colonel, sir," came the voice of Giselle, Lisowsky's assistant. "You have an incoming video call."
"I believe that I was very clear that I was not to be disturbed," Yanush said, annoyed at this interference.
"I know sir, but she says it is very urgent," Giselle told him nervously. "It's… I don't know how to put it but its Spectre Agent Shepard, believe it or not."
Lisowsky was stunned for a moment. At first, he thought that his subordinates were pulling a prank on him. But on Bekenstein everyone held dearly to their positions, no one would ever risk their careers for simple laugh.
Yanush of course heard reports that 'dead' Spectre was actually alive and well, that it was so kind of top secret cover story. He wondered what Shepard wanted from him. Was she here, on Bekenstein?
Quickly he removed the unfinished figurine from his table and adjusted his uniform. "Patch her through, Giselle."
"Yes sir."
His console's display flickered and in a moment he was looking at a stunning woman dressed in an exquisite black gown. It took him several minutes to recognize the features of Shepard. Judging by the background she was indeed on Bekenstein. Shepard smiled with her trademark smile as she started speaking.
"Colonel Lisowsky, this is Spectre Agent Shepard. Thank you for sparing your time to accept my call," the woman introduced herself; her voice removed any doubts of her identity. "Sorry for my attire, I've been doing some undercover work of late."
It took all his willpower for Lisowsky not to start blabbering. "It is perfectly understandable, Agent Shepard. We at the Bekenstein Security are no strangers to undercover work. If I can comment, your disguise suits you very much."
"Thank you, Colonel," Shepard said with another smile. "Now sir, you probably guessed that this isn't a social call. There is an urgent matter I wish to bring to your attention."
Yanush's palms started to itch because of excitement. "How can I be of service, ma'am?"
"Well, there is something I discovered during my undercover work. Does the name Donovan Hock means anything to you?..."
Shepard's plan worked perfectly. In an hour, Hock's mansion was filled to the brim with Bekenstein Security officers. Hock was arrested on sight, the content of his vault was evidence enough to ensure that he spends several hundreds of years in prison, if he was lucky enough to somehow live that long.
Shepard managed to easily recover her gear and then she left on her shuttle, her Spectre status ensuring that no questions were asked.
Aboard the Kodiak shuttle, en route to the Normandy…
"What should I do, Shepard?" Kasumi asked as tears run down her face, and Shepard understood why. The information on the graybox was irrevocably encrypted within Keiji's memories. There was no way of destroying one without destroying the other.
"Keep it," Victoria replied simply.
"You sure?" Kasumi asked hopefully. "You saw the information he found…"
"Kasumi, even if we destroy the graybox, the people who know that we have it now would still come for us eventually," Shepard told the thief. "We will have to face them one day, so we might as well keep the graybox. As for the information itself… My mother always taught me that the truth will always come out, one way or another."
"I see," Kasumi said quietly. "Shepard, I…"
"Just promise me one thing, Kas," Victoria interrupted the thief. "Promise me that you will not lose yourself in those memories. Unlike me, Keiji is not coming back."
"I know Shepard," Kasumi said with a nod. She hid the graybox in her pocket and added. "Thank you, Shepard. For everything."
"It's Victoria for you, Kasumi," Shepard said with a smile.
The shuttle finally reached the Normandy. The door opened and both Kasumi and Victoria stepped out to find several crew members waiting for them.
Gallardi was the first one to address them. The man seemed to be the only one to be completely immune to the Shepard's current charms.
"Commander, I take it the mission was a success."
"Yes, and it went much more smoothly than we expected, thanks to Maeteris' help," Shepard replied.
"Hm. I'm sure she'll be delighted to know that," Gallardi muttered.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to return to my old self," Victoria said and went to the elevator.
Kasumi chuckled and shook her head. She took out Keiji's graybox and looked at it. It felt good to finally have at least some part of him for her to remember.
"Hey Kasumi. You alright?" came Jacob's voice from behind her. "You seem to be a bit… lost."
Kasumi turned around and grinned at him. "No, no, I'm fine. Thanks for asking."
"Oh, that's good," Jacob said. "I take it you have your friend's graybox. You… probably want to spend some time alone."
Kasumi giggled. That's what she liked the most about Jacob – ever the gentleman. Of course, him being a real eye candy was also the thing she liked the most, but that was beyond the point. He was smart, funny and could also kick some serious butt in the fight. Many women would consider him a real prize.
During her stay at the Normandy, Kasumi gave Jacob certain signals to show him she was interested. She knew that he got them and she knew that Jacob was interested in her too. But when Kasumi told the crew about Keiji, Jacob became slightly distant, probably thinking that he was just a substitute for Kasumi's dead lover.
Kasumi looked down at graybox. Shepard was right – Keiji isn't coming back. It is best that he remains a fond memory of something Kasumi once had and not a bitter regret about something Kasumi once lost. Keiji was gone but Jacob was here. Stuffing the graybox into her suit, Kasumi looked at Jacob with a warm smile.
"You know, I was actually thinking about getting something to eat," she told Jacob. "That whole business with Hock left me so hungry I can eat a horse. Care to keep me company?"
Jacob smiled. "When you say it like that, how can I refuse?"
They started walking towards the elevator.
"Hey, do you think Gallardi is going to tell another story today?" Kasumi asked.
"After what he told us yesterday, I don't think something can beat that," Jacob replied with a shrug. "I mean, he was talking about a living God."
"Call it a gut feeling but I think he will surprise us," Kasumi told him and they entered the elevator.
"Captain, important news. The data formatting is complete," Gallardi heard Mordin say. "EDI is still working on the translation, but I have transferred all the data on the datapad. You can check if everything is displayed as it should be."
August looked up from his food to see the salarian standing in front of him with a datapad in his outstretched hand. Gallardi took the datapad with a nod.
"Ah, yes. Thank you."
Mordin quickly nodded and walked away. August activated the datapad and started to look through the files. The interface was different from Imperial cogitators but the names of files and folders were displayed correctly. Gallardi clicked on the "Personal" folder, eager to see if the part most important to him was preserved.
The letters seemed to be okay. August scrolled the screen down to see if the picture, her picture, was working properly. It was.
Gallardi heard a whistle nearby. "Look at that! Hey Kasumi, check Gallardi's datapad."
August couldn't help but chuckle. It seems that the people's reaction was always the same to this picture. It didn't matter whether you were in the Schola's dormitory, the Guard's barracks or in the mess hall of a strange ship in another dimension.
"Wow, she looks cute," Kasumi said as she leaned closer. "Come on, Captain! Show us."
Gallardi knew by now that people would not drop the issue. Therefore he passed the datapad to Jacob. There was a loud noise of several people leaving their seats and gather around Jacob in order to look at the picture. It was an image of a stunning woman dressed in blue uniform of the Imperial Navy. Her hand was resting on the pommel of her power saber. Her light blue eyes, traditional to the majority of the Harakon's nobility, contrasted starkly with the mane of bright red hair. She had a warm half smile on her face that only accented her patrician features.
Shepard was the first to speak. "Alright Gallardi. Time to talk. Who is the lucky girl?"
"Emperor's blood, they even ask the same question," Gallardi thought to himself. He looked up at the assembled group before replying.
"You're looking at the image of Arcadia Livingston. And before you ask: no, she is not my girlfriend, wife, lover, concubine or 'the girl I knew'."
"Then who is she?" Kelly asked eagerly.
"She is, in fact, my mother," August replied.
"Your old man is one lucky son of a bitch," Zaeed grumbled. "No offense."
Gallardi didn't take offense because six years ago Sergeant Sorenson said exactly the same phrase.
"If she is your mother why do you have a different surname," Miranda asked.
"I had to take my father's second name," Gallardi replied. "The Livingstons are one of the Harakon's oldest naval dynasties. To carry their name is to be part of that dynasty but I was sort of 'illegitimate child' in the dynasty's leader's eyes. It was a minor issue, barely worth mentioning."
Shepard looked at the picture. "Your mother is a Navy officer? Did she captain a ship?"
"Yes, she was a Captain of the Dauntless-class light cruiser 'Wings of Harakon'," Gallardi replied.
"Was?" Kelly asked uncertainly.
"She laid down her life in the service to the Emperor when I was ten," August said with pride in his voice.
The room was silent for a moment. "I very sorry to hear that," Kelly said.
"Don't be, Miss Chambers. It was a noble death," Gallardi told her.
"What happened?" Shepard asked as she returned to her seat.
"Well, you remember about the 13th Black Crusade..." Gallardi relayed the story of his mother's demise. The crew listened inventively up until the moment where he mentioned the estimated enemy casualties.
"Wait a goddamn second," Zaeed said. "You said 300,000 people? Just how big that troopship was?"
"It was a mass conveyance ship, it can carry dozens of regiments," Gallardi explained. "In terms of size it is somewhere between a cruiser and a battleship - from 6 to 7 kilometers, depending on the ship's class."
"Fucking seven kilometers..." Zaeed muttered
"Come on, you're pulling our legs on this one. Right?" Gabriella asked him incredulously.
"Highly improbable, would require an enormous element zero core..." Mordin mumbled and then corrected himself. "No, no, no! Do not use element zero. Ship construction is not limited by the complexity of the core required. Still, ship of such proportions would require a prodigious power source. Fusion reactors would be too inefficient. Must have more data..."
August smiled at their reaction. "I have studied your ship's classification in my free time. No offense, but you simply don't understand just how ridiculously small your ships are. Take the Normandy as an example - by your standards it is called 'super frigate'. By Imperial standards it is a light corvette."
Shepard looked at the ceiling with a grin and shouted. "You heard that Joker? You're flying a light corvette."
"I resent that, Commander," came the pilot's voice over the PA. "My baby is super frigate and I don't care what some folks from another dimension say."
"What about your frigates?" Jacob asked August.
"Depending on the ship's class, Imperial frigates can be from 1.5 to 3 kilometers," Gallardi replied simply.
"Bigger than Destiny Ascension," Miranda said in awe. "Even bigger than Sovereign was."
"And that is just an escort ship," Shepard added. "How about cruisers and... battleships, right?"
Gallardi nodded. "The 'Wings of Harakon' was a little over 4 kilometers. Most of the light cruisers are somewhere around that size. Cruisers vary between 5 and 6 kilometers. The battleships - from 6 to 8 km."
"Would have been nice to have a couple of those monsters," Goldstein noted. "I mean, imagine the kind of firepower those battleships pack. All we have to do then is to sit tight, wait for Reapers to arrive and then just... Pew! Pew! Problem solved."
"I know I'm going to regret this, but I'll bite," Shepard said and leaned closer. "Tell us Gallardi: what is the biggest ship of the Imperial Navy?"
"The 'Phalanx', mobile fortress monastery of the Imperial Fists Astartes Chapter," Gallardi replied automatically. "I don't know the actual measurements, but it should be enormous. People say that up to twelve cruisers can dock with it."
"Spirits, it's probably bigger than the Citadel," Garrus muttered. "And it can travel between stars. How does one build something like that?"
"No one knows actually," Gallardi replied with a shrug. "The creation of 'Phalanx' predates the foundation of the Imperium."
The silence that followed that statement was deafening.
Maeteris felt that she was making progress. The people of this ship began to trust her and in return she was more at ease with their presence. She even noticed that she no longer referred to humans as Mon-Keigh, unless they absolutely deserved it.
As a result, her visions became clearer with each divination. Today she even decided to try and reach further into the future. She already cast her runes and they were floating around her peacefully, helping Maeteris to focus her mind. The Farseer took a deep breath and began sorting through the flickering images of the future.
She saw a world of verdant plains. She saw a small town made of crude, similarly shaped houses. A human colony.
She saw humans running and screaming. They were chased by a swarm of fist sized bugs. Whenever the bugs touched a human the victim fell on the ground, paralyzed. Then Maeteris saw the Collectors advance through the colony and gather the helpless humans.
The image shifted. This time, the Collectors, along with some sort of disgusting hybrid of humans and machines, once again advanced through the same colony. Only this time they were not unopposed. Concentrated fire from colony's defenders killed them in scores.
Maeteris saw Shepard, Gallardi and other members of the crew among the defenders. She was also present. She saw her own hands unleash her power upon the collectors and their servants.
She noticed as one of the Collectors started to glow. Its body began to cover in glowing cracks as if it struggled to contain a much bigger essence. The glowing Collector flew towards her and she was about to destroy it, the essence from within the Collector spoke to her in a booming voice.
"ELDAR!"
A/N: I think we could use a small cliffhanger.