Not sure how well Jin comes across - I won't tell you how to interpret him. Hopefully his attitudes will speak for themselves.
I have corrected some former chapters - notably Commander Bailey's rank. Someone also pointed out Barla Von actually being on the Citadel, but I think I can take a few little liberties. I appreciate it it though, as I may go back and fiddle a bit!
Also, I have put a forum up should anyone wish to discuss the story outside of the confines of "Reviews"
myforums/Praetus/5250952/
"Reckoning"
Shepard stalked his way towards the elevator, his pace surprisingly quick for a man with a cane. Admittedly he winced with each step, his teeth grinding against one another. He hadn't realised how much the man had gotten under his skin. He had overreacted, been unprofessional. With the "Council", he had been making a point. With Jin, he wasn't sure what he had been aiming to do. He didn't break stride as he spoke to the air beside him.
"Kasumi. I am fine. You don't need to keep following me."
The Japanese thief shimmered into visibility next to him, keeping pace. Her frown, coupled with an arched eyebrow said she disagreed, "You look like to you want to smash someone into the deck plating. Haven't seen you like this since the Migrant Fleet…"
He stopped so abruptly she had to spin to face him. The Admiral exhaled slowly through his nose and nodded slowly, "I think you should go spend the afternoon with your husband. I need… some time to think. Please.
She gave him a searching look, then nodded slowly, "Alright Shep. But we'll be back this evening. You don't get rid of us that easily. Can't believe you tried a coma to shake us off."
She winked at him, did a little flourish and was gone. Chuckling ruefully, Shepard entered the elevator and descended the tower. He leaned back against the wall and took a few breaths to clear his head; the thoughts kept boiling away, as he analysed the reality of the situation:
A Quarian with an even bigger terror of dirt that normal? An engineer and farmer - well, farm ship engineer - at that! A hoarder? A contradiction? An authoritarian? A perfectionist with severe territoriality issues?
And it came back to the same question: why?
What made a man like that appealing to her? Someone who took joy in simple things, who was fascinated by intricacy? Who questioned and chased and revelled in all things new? What was it about a slow moving stoic conservative that made her go "Let's get married"? It had sounded political, but Jin had seemed protective. Of what? The ceremony or Tali?
Well, she was going to be here in three days - always best to go to the source in these things.
The doors slid open and he walked out, teeth still grinding as he walked purposefully to the skycars. First things first.
Time to get stupidly drunk.
L - What do you mean you left him alone?
KV - Exactly that. He's a big boy Liara.
L - In a bad place, Mrs Vakarian.
G - Still liking the sound of that.
L - Focus
G - I know Liara. But he isn't made of glass. He won't do anything stupid
Kaidan Alenko has joined the conversation
K - So, where is he?
L - We do not know. Kasumi decided to let him wander off.
K - You haven't got a tracker on him?
L - I wouldn't do that.
K - You've got one on me.
G - Busted Liara.
KV - HA!
L - Not the point.
James Vega has joined the conversation
J - Guys, someone might want to head to Midnight
L - Vega, what's up? Why the club? Impromptu dance off?
J - One of the crew reported seeing the Commander in there.
KV - Admiral
K - Admiral
G - Admiral
L - Admiral
J - Whatever. By the sounds of it the man's on a mission.
K - He's not trying to dance is he?
J - No sir. Just trying to see how long his liver can last.
Kaidan Alenko has left the conversation. Liara T'Soni has left the conversation. Garrus Vakarian has left the conversation. Kasumi Vakarian has left the conversation.
J - WHAT? When were you going to tell me scars?
One of the blue ladies had laughed at the joke. He had managed to smile in a winning way, gesturing with his glass. Another blue lady had laid her head against his shoulder and whispered something he couldn't quite make out, but sounded a bit strenuous. But maybe worth exploring. He had pursed his lips and nodded slowly. She had laughed as well.
And now he'd bought the bar another round and was standing with glass raised.
"My name is Commander Shepard and this is my favourite place on the Citadel!"
He sank the shot, along with a Turian, Salarian and three humans stood next to the bar. At the same time they all hissed and bent double before slamming the glasses down on the bar. The crowd cheered. The music thumped. He swayed gently, gesturing for another round. Another blue lady smiled sweetly at him. There was a brief commotion and she was replaced by a face that was only slightly blue and more silvery. And pointy.
"Don't fancy your chances… wanna drink?"
"Spirits, he's bad. Did Miranda say how much his tolerance was effected without all the implants?"
"Only mobility. His digestive supports should be fine," ah, now this one was blue. Pretty, "My eyes are up here, Admiral."
"Nah, Commander. 'S me. Wanna drink? They serve them here. Good too. Sir! A round of drinks for the people!"
The barman glanced between the Admiral and the new arrivals.
"Which people?"
Shepard turned to the bar as a whole, "ALL the people!" Another huge cheer.
"Right, definitely had enough. Good hearts and minds strategy though,"
"Not the time Garrus."
"You sure? I mean, free drinks, good compan- ow!"
"Try it and your next job at home will be as chrome linings on all our furniture bird man."
"Sorry dear."
Shepard watched the strange show but smiled as the barman handed him a frothy looking green mixture. He raised it at the newcomers and went to sip it, but found his hand empty. A diminutive oriental lady had just taken it off him. He frowned at her.
"You're sort of blue. No tentaclics though. Nice blue. And purple. I like purple. Love purple. Used to like black a lot y'know. Really got purple," He blinked, wondering why his eyes were wet, then turned to the barman, "Got anything purple?"
Hands gripped his shoulders and he felt arms hoist under his elbows. There was the sensation of movement but his legs weren't moving. The barman was becoming smaller, the cheering crowds chanting and waving as he disappeared backwards from the throng. He managed a wave and fist pumped the air.
"That was nice. Where's my purple?"
His head lolled and he began to snore.
The pain was very particular. Centred just behind his eyes. There was a general soreness around his general temple region and just around his head. The stomach didn't feel particularly brilliant either. Not much of him did. Shepard managed a groan and tasted his mouth. Which was a mistake. There was a handy bin nearby at least, which his flailing hands found nearly instantly.
After a few moments he managed to gain control again. and coughed briefly. He took stock: he was somewhere warm - always a bonus. He remembered buying a round. Maybe more than one. That may not have been as good. So, either he'd made a big mistake last night or…
He managed to open his eyes, a move that had pros and cons. The pro was that he confirmed he was in his own bed. The con was that his headache got worse.
"Fuck."
"Yeah, that sums it up. How you feeling boss?"
"Ow."
Kaidan leaned on frame of the bedroom door, grinning, "Never thought I'd see you like this again. You haven't been this bad since training."
"You didn't see me af'r Akuze."
"I heard. And you passed out faster. This was impressive. I'd avoid checking your credit account 'til you get some breakfast."
"Ugh."
"And Councillor Victus wants a word. So does Councillor Descartes."
"Who?"
"Geth Councillor. Forgot to mention her yesterday. Didn't really know much."
"Yesterday? What time is it?"
"0530. You spent five hours drinking solid. Miranda says you'd be dead without those implants. Thank god for Vega and crew on shoreleave."
"Everyone knows?"
"Yep. Got a vid too. Garrus and Kasumi have gone back to their hotel. Liara is on the Normandy dealing with a few things; so's Miranda."
"So you're baby-sitting," Shepard tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but didn't quite succeed. Kaidan seemed to not notice.
"Just making sure you don't do something stupid. Like drunk dial. Or go to another Council meeting."
"I'm fine Kaidan. But thanks. You been awake?"
"Yeah, but I'm good."
"Take a break. Any coffee?"
"Kasumi finished it yesterday morning. I'll go grab some. You sure you'll be ok?"
"Just need a shower. And some water. And to die. I'll be fine. My cane?"
Kaidan pointed at the bedside table and moved to help the Admiral as Shepard rose. He was waved away and watched as his commander limped towards the shower.
"Great, slept in my dress blues. Classy."
"Could be worse. Could've slept in something blue."
"Thank you for that tasteless reminder, Alenko. I defer to your experience on that front."
Alenko huffed as a dress jacket caught him full in the stomach, followed by shirt and trousers. Shepard disappeared into the shower, his muffled voice just audible.
"Do me a favour and get those laundered."
Kaidan rolled his eyes but turned back as he heard a cough. Shepard leaned around the door and sighed.
"And for the record: thanks. I probably owe you guys."
"Not at all John. I think we're just working our way up the list of debts owed. Give us a few more months, then you'll owe us."
Shepard snorted and ducked into the shower.
Fifteen minutes later Shepard was towelling his hair off, searching the kitchen units for something to eat. Mostly flat-packed foods to be rehydrated, he needed something fatty and with plenty of carbs. Something to soak up the extra vodka and whatever else he still had swilling around in his stomach.
He heard the door chime and sighed, leaning into the hallway, "Doors unlocked Kaidan. Come on in."
Shepard returned to unit checking, but a moment later the door chimed again. Sighing, he brought up his omni tool, which he had retrieved from the bedside table with his cane, and keyed the 'door open' command. He heard the door clunk open, then click shut. Footfalls in the hall, approaching the kitchen. His omni tool bleeped and he glanced down at the message.
01001000
01000101
01001100
01010000
Shepard didn't pause to think. He just dived to the side and backwards. Which was why the shotgun blast tore a hole in the kitchen top and not his gut.
He hit the ground palms first, keeping off his damaged knee. Left leg straight he pushed his bent right leg down and moved around the kitchen's centre isle in in a crouch, pausing in cover as another blast slammed over the edge of the centre unit to where he had dive.. His assailant was six feet away, following his path. Good - they weren't adapting to his movements, which meant they would be….
He kept moving around the unit, anti clockwise, but rose and swung the cane , gripping it by the base, heavy handle whirling like a club, to where he expected the attacker to be.
He caught a glimpse of a silvery shell, painted blue at the torso, in the process of leaning around and aiming at where he had been. A flash-light head jerked up to focus at him just as the cane connected with it.
The geth spun with the blow, landing against the drawer units in the small, semi circular kitchen. Shepard inhaled and broke into a limpin jog towards the stairs. Damn him leaving his pistol in the bedroom. But he hadn't expected… his gut shifted and he threw himself to the side again as a blast hit the stair bannister - it was adapting. Hit hit the floor and scrambled into cover behind the sofa. Another blast ripped through cushions and he scrambled to one side.
It's aim was a little off: he must have jarred the visual scanner. His omni tool bleeped again:
01001000
01000101
01001100
01010000
The Geth moved forwards, its steps heavy on the wooden floor.
"Shepard…..commander."
The voice was strained, the emitters crackling.
"Sh-sh-sh-shepard."
He grunted, forcing his injured knee to bend as the threw himself up and over the second sofa. He caught a glimpse of the geth taking aim at where he been; he saw the unit jerk, pulling the shotgun right.
Away from him.
The blast shattered the window. It would've taken his leg off at the knee otherwise. Shepard rolled awkwardly as he braced himself against his now only unruined sofa.
"He-he-he-help me."
He brought up his omni tool, scrolling through apps, grunting as he found the one he needed. The one Tali had given him all the way back on the first Normandy, because his standard ap was "too cumbersome". He pressed the activate key, dialing in a timer, then, using his cane, pushed himself to his feet, flinging his left arm out to point towards the geth.
It was only nine feet away, shotgun levelled at him. But the weapon was practically vibrating in its hands, the fingers resisting the trigger. That became moot as the omni tool glowed, transmitting. The shotgun sparked in the Geth's hands and the synthetic dropped it. The flash-light head remained fixed on him as the Geth jerked forwards, its arms reaching out, still shaking, towards his throat.
Shepard swung the cane from right to left, glancing against the Geth's wrist. It grabbed, but missed as the Admiral pivoted on his right leg, using the swing as momentum. The Geth went past and tried to turn, but it was now off balance. Shepard twisted the cane mid spin and, using his momentum, jabbed at the synthetic's side. The machine stumbled and he followed through by launching himself at it. Shepard caught it around the waist and rammed it against the wall, just above the mock fireplace. He released the Geth and moved away heading back towards the kitchen and, by extension, the front door. As he limped forwards he bent to scoop up the shotgun.
Any organic would've taken cover, popped the heat sink and run the reset cycle on the weapon. Any normal Geth would've done the same. He had no spare heat sinks, but you could always improvise. He cracked open the reload port, letting the heat hiss out, then keyed an override.
Something heavy caught him in a tackle, bringing him painfully to the floor. Metallic hands scrabbled at his neck whilst a heavy weight pressed down on his back, pinning him. But it was automatic, no real leverage. As he felt the pressure built at his throat, as his vision grew spotty, he managed to leverage the shotgun backwards over his shoulder. He pulled the trigger.
There was an electronic noise and a spray of white, viscous fluid. The weight disappeared, one of the arms dropping next to him, the other slipping backwards sharply, leaving a gash at his neck.
Panting Shepard rolled over and coughed. He could taste blood, but his vision was clearing. The Geth lay slumped against the opposite wall of the kitchen cum hallway. It twitched, leaking which transfer fluid from it;s left shoulder, where the arm had been neatly severed by a very close proximity shotgun blast. The weapon lay, smoking and burnt out, nearby.
Coughing, Shepard dragged himself over to the unit and began running a diagnostic. He saw the "eye" rise to look at him.
"Shepard Commander… Admiral. Please. Run. Get away."
"No, you're wounded and clearly in distress. Not going to leave you here."
"This chassis is still at 73.5% operational capacity. You have temporarily disabled several runtimes. I estimate another 109 seconds before hardware adapts and the primary objective is reinstated."
"And what objective would that be?" He grinned as the synthetic's arch of flaps, which helped the Geth "express" (quite the popular mod amongst the now-free synthetics). It was the equivalent to a human's incredulous stare.
"To kill Shepard, designated as "THREAT" by any means necessary. Overriding all protocols."
"What's your name?" The unit cocked it's head.
"This one is… Delenne."
"Well Delenne, I don't like leaving a man, woman or anyone else behind. You're wounded. Is there anyway I can delay the reactivation without killing you?"
"83 seconds. No. You would need to wipe the memory core, terminating my runtimes. Please, sir. Run. Or kill me. You must."
Shepard grimaced and ran through a couple of functions on his omni tool. The Geth jerked and "frowned", "What did you do? I cannot feel sensors on the epidermal level? My HUD has been limited."
"Sorry, got to work quick. I've anaesthetized you. Because this is the only way to keep you alive. Until we can help you. I'm sorry."
Shepard struggled to his feet and limped to the kitchen.
"23 Seconds. What are you going to do sir?"
Shepard rummaged around in a draw and returned, carrying a filleting knife. He had a pale, gaunt expression on his face.
"Look away."
Kaidan pushed open the door, bags held under one arm, "Got you some Brazilian imitation. not the kick of a New York synthetic but…"
He froze as he saw the scene. Shepard slumped against the kitchen central counter, a towel clutched to his neck. The floor was stained white by Geth fluids. A synthetic lay on the floor, spasming gently. Along its arms and legs the artificial musculature was laid out like threads. The look Shepard turned on him chilled him in a way he hadn't thought possible.
"Sir?"
"She was sent to kill me. Against her will. I've disabled her sensors. I had to sever her joints and manipulators." The Admiral''s voice was dull, heavy, "However, it meant I had to disable everything except core functions. I'm no tech master. Brute forced it. She's blind. Can't move. Can't hear. Whilst the program tries to make her do things."
"Jesus."
"I've got my omni-tool running support diagnostics. Get Bailey. She's one of his. Keep it quiet: there's something else."
Kaidan approached and squatted down next to Shepard. The Admiral brought up an analysis of the malignant code running in Delenne's subframe. Then he brought up a comparison box. The codes matched nearly exactly.
"What is that, sir?"
"An overload subroutine. Fries most electronics, shorts systems. But targeted it can just overrun firewalls… or code that defines autonomous action."
"Why do you have a version?"
Shepard's voice was hollow, "It's Tali's."