A/N: I've been planning to start a series of weekly updates for Uploaded from the beginning of next week to compensate you guys, but it seems that no one's actually reading this anymore. If you are, please do let me know through a PM or review or whatever you're comfortable with. Because it'd be rather more worth it to just update during my term break rather than crank out a weekly chapter when no one's reading. Thanks.
Cerberus had good service, I'll give them that.
Lawson's subordinate had brought T'Soni and I down to a hallway not far from where we were, which was good, because my leg seriously couldn't take anymore work. There, we were handed a key card each.
I hurriedly opened the door, and found myself staring at the intricate interior of a rather posh room, or to be more accurate, suite.
Immediately before the door was a large TV console, a large coffee table and a pair of couches that could fit two and three guests each. Across the living room was an average-sized kitchen equipped with shiny pots and pans, along with a pretty huge fridge. Between the couch and the kitchen was a moderate-sized, sleek dining table, with more than enough room for four. Added with the parquet flooring and the warm orange lighting, yeah, I'd say the room was pretty darn posh.
What a shame if it was to be stained with blood, no?
"Uh, what's your name?" I asked the man.
"Albert," he respectfully replied.
"Well, Albert, does this station have a medical section or something? My leg's injured bad. Real bad, actually."
"Don't worry, Mr. Kovac. We'll send a doctor to you right away. But why don't you freshen up inside while you wait for them to arrive?"
"Yeah, that sounds great."
He sent me a courteous smile, before turning to T'Soni. "Would you like anything, Dr. T'Soni? Some food perhaps?"
"No, thank you, I'll be just fine."
"We have specially prepared a selection of Asari delica-"
"No, thank you. I'll be alright."
Our guide seemed to get the message.
"You can always call for me if you need anything, then," Albert responded, still as polite as ever.
"Goodnight," the Asari said before entering her room, and quite possibly into seclusion.
"Yeah well, see you," I said to Albert. "And tell your doctor to hurry up."
As I entered the room, it seemed larger than ever, now that I could take in all of it. Separated by a screen from the living room was the bedroom, which was also large as heck, coupled with an equally big wardrobe. I wobbled my way to the couch and sat down, with my legs finally relieved to have the pressure off of them. I started to slowly remove the pieces of my armour, now more troublesome than ever.
That was until I started to begin on my right leg, which resumed hurting like a bitch. With no other choice, I only took off the armour pieces on my painless left leg.
Just then, the bell rang.
"Sorry, but my leg's busted," I shouted out. "You're gonna have to open the door on your side."
After a few seconds, the door opened, and I found a bald man in Cerberus uniform entering my room.
"Mr. Kovac," he greeted. "I'm Dr. Kensington, I believed you called for me?"
"Yeah well, my right leg hurts like shit and I can't do anything about it."
"Hmmn, let me see."
After a few minutes of examining, Kensington said, "Oh dear, I'm afraid your leg requires some rather serious treatment."
Although instead of immediately doing some horrid painful things to my injured leg, though, the doctor walked to the fridge and got out two green bottles. He set one on the table, opened the other, and handed it to me. I took a big gulp out of the icy cold glass bottle.
Beer.
I frowned.
"Hey, aren't you going to give me meds later? And I thought doctors hate it when their patients drink."
"Years of working in this business has told me that patients tend to drink more when we tell them not to. If I'm correct, you were planning on opening up a few of these after I leave, yes?"
"Um..."
Kensington arched an eyebrow.
I caved in. "Alright, fine. Yeah, I was planning to hit the sauce tonight. Hard not to after all that's happened today."
"I understand, but I'm limiting you to only two bottles tonight. If you really need to have more, there are non-alcoholic ones in the fridge. Deal?"
I grinned.
"Deal."
Turned out Kensington was quite the doctor. He said a piece of shrapnel from the grenade blast had gone into my leg. The only possible reason I didn't pass out was because my suit had sent streams of medi-gel into my wound instantly. The doctor managed to patch up my leg rather nicely, but not before a horridly painful moment of tough-love medical treatment.
"Remember, only one more bottle, and then you rest," Kensington said before he left.
I went to take a shower, but ended up playing with the soap and bubbles like a child in the gigantic bathroom half the size of my apartment. I had to take my hats off to the wonderful developers of Mass Effect for creating the miraculous wonder that was medi-gel. Waterproof and airtight meant showering without trying to avoid water getting into my wound.
After a long, luxurious shower, I was prepared to rummage through the wardrobe for clothes, but I didn't have to. It was packed full of clothing, all of them my size.
Creepy.
But convenient.
And very comfortable.
Sadly, there weren't any of the clothes that I was hoping for. I'd long learnt that Mass Effect didn't scream T-shirts and jeans, but there weren't any ordinary civilian clothing either. Only fancy suits and the iconic Cerberus uniform.
I reluctantly put on a dress shirt and pants, with my shirt tucked out and sleeves rolled.
I hardly wore suits, but I disliked wearing the uniform of a terrorist organisation, as good as they were with customer service and satisfaction.
Lazy, I decided to put on the slippers that came with the bathrobe. I wasn't exactly enthusiastic for socks and shoes again after hours of lugging around in metal boots.
I limped over the kitchen and searched around the cupboards. I settled on mac & cheese. As soon as I managed got my supper nuked, I went to the fridge and cracked open a bottle of non-alcoholic beer.
I took a sip and immediately sent the rest of it into the trash.
Nothing like the real deal.
Ding.
My mac & cheese was good to go.
As I sat down and chewed my pasta, my mind crashed like waves against a cliff.
What was I going to do now that Napier wasn't around to well, save my ass - not that I was going to ever say that out loud.
There was nowhere for me to go.
After I finished the last of my meal and pondered about my potentially vagrant-like future, I went to bed.
And my mind started to wonder if T'Soni was doing the same next door, trying to pretend everything was fine and futilely trying to get some shut eye. Worrying the Hell out of Shepard even though there was nothing she could do about it.
Plucking up my courage, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and went to her door.
I was most probably going to get blasted out of the station by blue energy, but what the heck.
I knocked on the door.
No response.
I knocked again.
A good five minutes passed, and I was about to knock again when the door opened.
T'Soni stared at me wordlessly, her blue eyes unflinchingly icy.
I mentally cowered in fear.
"Uhh..." I said rather dumbly. "Hey doc, just wanted to check up on you. I figured, you know, we both probably can't sleep, so I brought this over."
I gestured with the bottle. "Can I come in, or do you want to kick me out?"
She stayed silent.
"I'm perfectly fine with both," I quickly added.
Please say no.
"No, it's alright. Please come in."
I took a seat at the couch and set the bottle on the table. T'Soni got us two glasses and returned, taking a seat on the other couch. Taking the bottle, the Asari proceeded to read the words on the table.
"Tuh-nee-see whiz-key," she said slowly. "Is that correct? I'm not very good at reading human languages. My best is English, but I'm afraid I've barely scratched the surface on that one."
"It's teh-nuh-see," I said slowly.
"Teh-nuh-see?" she repeated.
"Now say it quickly. Teh-nuh-see. Tennessee."
"Tennessee."
"Yeah, that's right. You're pretty good, actually. But why are you learning English anyway? You've already got a translator.
"I was on business on Earth once, and one night, my translator glitched. It wasn't working anymore, so I tried to go around asking for help, but everyone looked at me like I was a maniac. I told myself to never allow such a thing to happen again, and thus I took up English. But work and the search for Shepard had not allowed me much time for other activities, so my proficiency in English remained stagnant."
"Oh."
A moment of awkward silence entered, so I filled our glasses to kill the tension.
"Try it, don't down it all in one gulp though, or it'll burn your throat."
T'Soni took a sip. "I had whiskey once, but this tastes different. I believe I had scotch whiskey the other time."
"Really? Where did you try it?"
"At a party, with the other Normandy crew. At Shepard's apartment on Intai'sei."
Our conversation took another awkward turn. It seemed like most of the Asari's life revolved around the dead heroine.
But enough was enough. The whiskey was starting to work its magic, and I was beat. I finished my glass.
"Well, it was nice talking to you, doc, but I gotta go and hit the sack." I stood up. "Thanks for the uh, chat."
"Of course, it has been hard recently. Take care, operative Kovac."
"Goodnight."
I went snoring the moment my head hit the pillow. The alcohol helped, but so did the silk sheets too.
It felt like only five minutes before I had to open my eyes again, the shrill ringing of the terminal on the bedside table threatening to burst my ear drums.
"Kovac," I said, irritated.
"It's Miranda Lawson. The reports on Shepard's just arrived."