The problem, Jane Shepard realizes, is that she's gone up a cup size, so none of the...well, the dress she owned no longer fits her, at least not without making it look like she's trying to smuggle pillows. Goto, on the other hand, has managed to provide her with several dresses. One of which she is trying on. Turning in the mirror, she wonders to herself how idiotic one has to be to wear a dress that is this skimpy, this low cut, and make out of what is apparently polished leather.
She wiggles her ass. In the mirror, she watches it shake. God damn, she thinks. She's a looker, now. She was relying on force of personality before she got the magical kung fu bullshit thingy between her souls, but now she can turn heads.
No wonder Lawson wanted to teach her how to strut.
"So hey," Shepard says, peaking her head out of the dressing room to find Kasumi sitting on the bench and reading a magazine, "What's the deal with you and Taylor?"
She glances up. For some reason, she's still in that catsuit with the hood, but no one's as much as giving her a second look. "When I had my breakdown, he helped me get my head on straight. There's nothing serious right now, but we're going to go on a date when we get back."
Shepard cocks an eyebrow. "Isn't he a little young for you?"
"I think the 'half plus eight' rule only applies when you're still mortal, really. Otherwise my options would be Krogans and Asari." She closes the magazine. "Besides which, have you seen his abs? You could grate cheese on them."
Jane rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "So, let me get this straight. You had the opportunity to go on a date with with Taylor, who you've been checking you since we got off Deus, and you chose this. Why?"
Kasumi folds her hands in her lap, crossing her legs. "While I admit, the possibility of breaking my dry spell in a most spectacular fashion was appealing, do you know what would make me feel even better?"
"Revenge?"
Kasumi's mouth parts into a full smile. That little part of Jane that keeps checking out Liara admits, she has a very nice smile.
"Shepard, I think you and I are going to get along splendidly."
Chapter 11:
The Heist
The chair leans back. Plastic legs creak and wobble as he glances between the datapad and the drink, giving both the utmost attention. Much of it is classified, but the jargon in the report is so dense that only someone with his clearance would understand it in the first place. Rubbing his jaw, he sips the drink, glancing around the dark lounge between bursts of colorful lights.
A glance at the bar. He sees some humans, a turian, and a salarian. Three of them are talking, slapping the salarian on the back. Glancing the other direction, towards the lounge proper, he sees the tv. The news about Valern has gotten out. Never talked with him, but met him.
Damn shame.
There is shouting from the lounge. He turns, clicking off the datapad. Encryption rolls over the screen as it shuts off and he sips his drink, giving his full attention to what he sees. Turian, yeah. And a female one at that. He can count the number he's seen on one hand, honestly.
He can see them arguing. Body language is the first give away. The guy is tilting as he's yelling. There's the languidness in his shoulders, the slur in his speech. Omnitools and universal translators are very good at recognizing when someone is stone drunk, and this one definitely is. He can't tell the exact words, but he can tell that she's not happy with him.
The punch is the other sign. His fist catches her on the side of the head, right against the flat plating, where the head crest is on the guy. He sides his chair out, standing from the table and walking. He's ranting, drunken. Doesn't know the relationship between the two. Doesn't care. There's one thing that sets him off, though, and it's this.
He crosses the lounge. He's fast, but quiet. Everyone is too busy watching the one-sided fight to notice the human approaching. No one sees him until he grabs the turian's forearm on the backswing. "Hands off. Last warning."
His eyes narrow, and meet the turian. "Leave. Go home and dry off. Last chance."
The turian swings. He mutters something guttural, swearing at the human. Something about them never minding their damn business. Something about how they should've been glassed. Normal drunk speciesist crap they tend to yell when they're that sopped, and he's heard enough to ignore it.
He doesn't get angry. Instead, he moves. He blocks the punch on his forearm, deflecting the fist to the side before swinging, a punch to the centerline between his chest and stomach knocking the wind from him, bending him over just enough for his uppercut to catch him on the forehead.
The turian stumbles back. Wonderful, he thinks. He's drunk enough to not go down.
Instead, he grabs a bottle, smashes it on the bar, and charges him.
He makes it two steps before he glows, electricity sparking over him. A groan, and he collapses unconscious to the floor.
"Disappointing. Tsk tsk. Would have thought he recognized systems alliance uniform. Have sent video to C-Sec so they know you didn't start this fight."
Behind the turian, the salarian clicks off his omnitool and adjusts the collar of a white doctor's uniform. The first thing he notices is the missing horn and the body language. Not as much twitchy as he is active, observing. Noticing everything around him, glancing around the bar before glancing at him.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes. Yes, of course." The salarian walks over, stepping over the unconscious turian. "Kaidan Alenko, yes? You will be serving on the SSV Normandy following refit?"
Kaidan nods, cocking an eyebrow. "Yeah. I've been asked to be the XO. How did you-"
"Appointed by Salarian Dalatrasses as special observer." He extends a hand. "Mordin Solus, STG. Retired. Still have clearance."
...
The dress comes down to just above her knees. It's black, but not shiny like that leather monstrosity. No sleeves, but that's most of what it leaves uncovered, with a major exception. She turns to her side, grits her teeth, and flexes.
Yep, she thinks. Even outside of the leather fetish dress, she's still got an ass. She needs to go clubbing when this is done. Flaunt it. Maybe get a bar fight going so she can place bets.
She hears the tearing sound, and mutters to herself. Looking down, she sees the tear along the seem, up her right leg. Fuck, she thinks. Fuckity fuck fuck balls. She'll have to see if there's another one, because she likes this one. It's not too flashy, doesn't make her look too easy, and she likes black.
Well, there's that circle right at her chest, underneath the collar that gives a good look at her cleavage, but she might as well show off something.
Shoving side the curtain, she steps out of the dressing room. Kasumi cocks an eyebrow. "You could hide a gun in that cleavage."
"I could hide a grenade launcher." She presses her hands against the sides, lifting them up and letting them bounce. "I'm stacked."
"You are. I was a bit on the stick side before I got my exaltation, myself." Kasumi shrugs. "Now I'm stacked like a milk crate."
Jane cocks her head. That euphemism sounded...off. Odd. "What century's that from?"
The thief purses her lips, thinking. "Mid twentieth." Shepard cocks an eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm old. No need to remind me, Shepard. Using that dress?"
"Yeah. Rip in it, though." She turns to the side, showing the tear up the leg. Kasumi shrugs, swinging up to her feet.
"Gimme it. I can sew it up." Jane nods, backing into the dressing room. A moment and a shuffle of fabric, and the dress flies over the top of the dressing room and into Kasumi's hands as she disappears into another dressing room.
Topless, Jane turns and admires herself in the mirror. "It's a good dress. Good support, to. The top was acting like a sports bra."
"Shepard, we're going to this big party and you're thinking about whether the little black dress is practical?"
Jane shrugs, facing the mirror. She purses her lips and the corners quirk up. Her pectorals flex, and she watches the bounce. "Well, I've got a lot more to support. Which's kind of weird."
"Well, yes. Exaltations kind of make us how we're meant to be." A humming, followed by the sound of a sewing machine. "I was a stick little girl when I hit the magic bullshit jackpot, now look at me. You're just looking like you should."
"I should look like a comic book superhero?"
"It fits. And why are you paying so much attention to those? I swear, Shepard, men don't pay as much attention to your breasts as you are."
She shrugs, swaying from side to side. "Look, they're huge. I is good shape for years and they never were that big. It's not like I was ugly or anything, but now..."
"You're bigger than T'Soni and turn heads like Tali?"
Shepard cocks an eyebrow. A hand thrusts into the dressing room, holding the dress. "Shepard, I'm five hundred years old. I've known a lot of people like you, and the keyword I'd use for them is practical." Shepard takes the dress, pulling it on.
"Yeah, I'm practical alright." She mutters, zipping up the back. "What's weird is that it hasn't affected my balance. I'd think going up a size would mean I'd have to relearn how to walk, you know. But all I have to worry about is tying them down."
She walks out of the dressing room, rolling her shoulders. Kasumi is on the bench, waiting. "Feels a bit looser."
"I made improvements," Kasumi responds with a smile. Clapping her hands, she stands, walking to the door and opening it. White butterflies flutter out as she walks through, and Shepards follows her to step into the compartment of a shuttle.
"Please tell me we didn't steal this dress."
"I bought it online."
Jane follows her into the cockpit, arms folded. "You have money?"
"Interest off of several accounts." The consoles light up. The windshield turns transparent, showing the opaque greens of the Serpent Nebula. "And we're off."
...
The general consensus was that, while Cerberus is very good at making ships and gathering resources, they were also good at cutting corners. The Alliance was already planning a second Normandy. He's old enough that he remembers the last Star Trek reboot back in the 2130's, and that little romantic in him realized that the Normandy had become the Alliance's Enterprise.
Steven Hackett, Admiral. Fleet Admiral, in fact. Following the Battle of the Citadel, he was promoted to head of the Alliance fleet. When Anderson told him Shepard was alive and the new Normandy was being handed over to the Alliance, he made it a point to inspect it personally.
The techs will need at least six months to bring this ship up to spec. Things like moving the armory down from the command center, adapting the QEC to fleet headquarters and simple engine reinforcement will take months.
Then, Hackett stepped into the crew quarters on deck three.
"Oh what the fuck."
The old admiral runs a hand over his trimmed goatee, glancing from the coconut tree, to the bar, to the eighteen legged spider cat standing in front of him. Glancing at his hand, he quickly throws back the scotch, idly wondering how Shepard managed to get a bottle of that onto the Normandy and how in God's name there is a tropical island inside the Normandy.
"So." He rubs his jaw. Is that an actual beach? "How much to have one of these installed on my ship?"
...
The screen folds out of the console, displaying the man. Tall, severe, thin. A precisely trimmed goatee on his face, the black hairs just dark enough to indicate that he dyes the grays. Everything about him, from the video showing how he walks, to the white, tailored suit, screams one word in Jane's mind.
Douchebag.
"This our guy?"
"Donovan Hock," Kasumi explains, pilot controls moving under her fingertips as the black of space gives way to the blue of atmosphere, "Arms dealer. Mercenary paycheck-writer. All around bad guy. Also, fan of the arts."
Her lips quirk up. "Few months back, Keiji, my partner, and I ran into him during a job. We were doing an intelligence raid, and Hock's goons caught us." The lips straighten. "I got away. Keiji didn't. Hock took Keiji's graybox, a memory backup implant, and I want it back."
Jane nods. "So this is the job? We're stealing that?"
"That's the first thing we're stealing." Blue eyes narrow. "Then I'm stealing everything else. When we're done, Hock's going to have one single credit to his name."
The lips quirk down. The blue eyes glow faintly underneath the hood. "You don't steal from me. You don't take the people I care about." Gloved fingers twitch. "You just don't."
Jane nods, leaning back. "I understand that completely. Ever hear of Elysium?"
Kasumi glances over. "Right. You fought off the Skylian Blitz by yourself. In a towel."
"Found out later that it was a full scale invasion force, and I cut right through them." Jane chuckles, shaking her head. "They were between me and my cousin. So yeah, I get you on this. What's the plan?"
A screen folds out, showing a very, very familiar face. "In the cargo hold of this shuttle, we have a solid gold statue of your old friend, Saren Arterius. He's loaded up with your armor and our guns. We're going to disable Hock's security system, make some distractions, and then I'm going to steal his house."
"His house."
"I bought some land on Illium." Kasumi smiles, folding her hands. "I think his house would look lovely there."
The pictures fold down. "Your alias is, nominally, Misses Sarah Gunn. I estimate this will last five seconds. So you're going to be getting attention, turning heads, and keeping eyes off little old me."
Jane cocks an eyebrow. She looks down. "Explains the little black dress. So you're saying a Spectre, Alliance Commander and N7 Marine's sole job here is to be eye candy?"
"Yes. In essence, I did in fact bring you along so people could watch your tits jiggle." Jane glares, narrowing green eyes. "Don't give me that look. It'll be fun. Anyway, show time."
The shuttle lands on the open platform, seatbelts disengaging and the side door opening. Jane exits and is hit by the scents- imported trees, imported flowers. Sheer, raw nature hits her. This is a garden world, alright. A very, very well crafted garden world.
Before her is a mansion of steel and glass and plastics, rising higher than that office building the Broker tries to blow up on Illium. Mercenaries- ones with the blue sun logo- move crates, move supplies. She turns and sees the statue being carted out of the back of the shuttle.
She and Kasumi walk to the stairs and the main entrance to the mansion. The doors open, and accompanied by a very large man in black, red lined armor, Donovan Hock strides down the stairs to meet them.
"Miss Sarah Gunn," he says, in an accent that is somewhere between british and incomprehensible, "Or, should I say, Miss Jane Shepard?" Jane glances to Kasumi. Kasumi simply smiles. "I must say, the attempt to hide your identity was charming, but unnecessary. I am, myself, a large fan."
He stops in front of them, extends an arm to his side and bows like a showman. "Donovan Hock, at your service. Welcome to my celebration." He glances at Kasumi. Well, more glances at her legs, then stops at her chest, and finally at her face. "And who is your lovely companion?"
Kasumi smiles. "Kasumi Goto. I'm a master thief, and I'm here to rob you blind."
Jane freezes in place. Her eyes dart at the smiling thief. Hock, on the other hand, just laughs. "Very clever!" He bows, again. "Enjoy your stay, and please, tell me if you need anything." He turns and walks up the stairs, accompanied by the guard.
The doors close, and Jane whirls on the thief. "The fuck was that?"
Kasumi's smile only grows wider. "I'm a sidereal. I can lie with the truth." The lips curl upward, showing teeth. "And he's even more susceptible than I expected. So's all his security people."
The gloved hand grabs Jane's wrist, pulling her along as they climb the stairs. "Time's wasting, Shepard. This is going to be glorious."
...
Neil Barret looks down. Midway through his third lap around the vehicle hangar and armory underneath Hock's mansion, the young Eclipse soldier noticed the white envelope that appeared in front of him. Bending down, his armor and bodysuit creek as curiosity gets the best of him and he flips the letter over.
"Neil Barret, Vehicle Hangar, Donovan Hock's Mansion." He blinks. Did he read that address right?
His omnitool flares and extends a thin blade, running it along the edge of the letter and opening it. Dropping the envelope to the floor, he unfolds the note and tilts his head.
"'What's in the box?'" He blinks. "What's in the box?"
He drops the letter, spotting another envelope in the floor a few feet away. Walking over to it, he flips it over and confirms that, yes, it is also addressed to him. Tearing it open, he stares at the letter.
"What's in the box?" He stares. Sees another envelope a few steps away, but off of his patrol path. "What is in the box?"
...
After Sovereign was destroyed and before the Normandy was ambushed over Alchera, Shepard, Liara, and Tali had a girl's night out before they had to go their separate ways. It involved a bar, a very large tab, and Jane taking it upon herself to personally pummel anyone who tried to take advantage of her surrogate little sister.
Tali, as well, made it her mission that night to pummel anyone, such as Liara, who tried to take advantage of an inebriated Shepard. Not that Liara would have, but the tension between the commander and the doctor was more than evident even before Jane got the metaphysical boob job.
The thing was, the thing was, Jane didn't get hit on in that night out, except by Liara. Compared with a quarian girl, which fulfills most of the fetishes for she thinks all the bipedal alien races, and an asari, a modestly attractive red haired human didn't turn heads.
As she walks through the lobby of Hock's mansion, Jane Shepard can feel eyes on her.
She can hear whistles. Conversations stop as she passes. Next to her, Kasumi smirks, and Jane cracks her knuckles as she consciously suppresses her normal response, which is to stomp around like a Krogan.
Glances from side to side confirm something else, something surprising. The men, and some women, are staring at parts other than her chest. She catches a few glancing at her legs, a few at her tucchus, and an occasional soul actually looking at her face. She smirks, glancing over to Kasumi.
"Still not sure why you asked me."
"My original idea was to ask Tali, but I realized that if anyone made a pass on her you'd descend on this party like the fist of an angry god."
"Point."
"Alternatively," Kasumi says with a shrug, "You're being stared at, and for good reason. I don't go for women, but the dress looks good on you." They pass the fountain at the center, past Hock who is speaking with the same large man from earlier. "And admit it, you like being checked out. You can break any person here who tries anything. Put effort into it, and you can have them all eating out the palm of your hand."
Jane shrugs, walking past man in a blue suns uniform, talking with a women and talking about some refinery business. "Okay, good point."
"And when, Commander, was the last time you were on a date?"
They walk down the stairs, down to the narrow hallway. Jane purses her lips and cocks her eyebrow. "...date?"
"Well, that explains everything." Kasumi comes to a halt. The orange construct of an omnitool appears around her left hand, and the wall in front of them flickers, flashes, and becomes a door. It slides open, and the thief steps into the large room.
Jane's eyes don't go to the computer, or the criss cross of lasers at the far end or the monitors. Instead, they go to the statue of the turian placed against the right wall. Hands folded behind her, she stares at the likeness of Saren Arterius.
"Hock likes Saren. That's why I had the statue done." Kasumi paces in front of the door, arms folded. "Both are ruthless bastards, both have a carte blanche because they're useful. It makes sense."
"Was Saren like me?" Kasumi turns, tilting her head. "Was Saren like me?" Jane repeats, "Was he a Solar?"
Kasumi shakes her head, wandering to the console on the left. "Okay...voice analyzer. Right. And no, Saren couldn't have been the Zenith. If he was, he couldn't have been indoctrinated. And he couldn't have exalted after being indoctrinated. You need to have free will to exalt, as I understand it."
Her head tilts, waving an omnitool over the console on the right. "Aaaaand DNA analyzer. Okay. Right. Anyway, Autodono explained it to me that Swillin can take control of you if you're not Exalted. Looks like the exaltations look for free will and keep you from being mind controlled."
"Swillin?"
"She Who Lives in Her Name. The glass ball thingy which got into the argument with Auto." She taps her foot. "Kinetic barrier, too. Anyway, mind control is, like, the least of your worried with Autodono's family. We're basically control-proof, and if you're being controlled you can't exalt. Hence, Saren wasn't a Solar."
The thief claps her hand and smiles. "So! DNA scanner, password system, voice recognition and a cruiser-grade kinetic barrier. Advanced and expensive, but simple if you know what to do."
"Right." Shepard looks down, digging one of her pointed heels into the floor. Odd, she thinks. She hasn't faceplanted. "So you're going to magic it?"
"No. No no no." Kasumi shakes her head, folding her arms. "Siddy magic doesn't work when stealing physical things. It's more metaphysical or metaphorical stealing. We're going to do this the practical way." She smiles. "Here's the plan."
...
The collar of the shirt is making his neck itch. He promised to be a good boy and wore a high collar, too, so he could hide the tattoos and the scars. If he wasn't being paid so god damn much, he'd have an issue with it.
"So it must be so interesting," the woman in front of him continues, tilting her hips at him in that way that just sort of says bone me, "Working for her. What's she like? Is she seeing anyone?" He stares. Yes, of course, he thinks. He's right here, he hasn't seen any action since First Contact, and he's being used as a god damn proxy 'cause someone wants to nail his boss.
"My boss' personal life isn't any of my business." That's as professional as he's getting with that. "Unless you're interested in moving to Omega, I'd say she's not interested, either."
She narrows her eyes and purses her lips. She's tall, blonde. Nice rack. Still, he knows his boss' type. This ain't her type. Message is sent and received, and the girl walks away.
Nice ass, though.
"Nice ass, though." Oh, there we go, he thinks. Never thought he'd be the subtle one in a partnership. "Nice moves, cyclops. Forget to club her and drag her back to the cave, or you letting her fatten up before winter?"
He grumbles, rolling his eyes. "High praise from you. At least I don't complain when someone wants me to wear a fucking shirt. Amount of noise you made getting dressed was like when my grandma'd dress her cat."
She hisses. Naturally, she hisses. She tugs at the collar of her suit, shifts her hips and rolls her shoulders. So not only is he in an actual god damned suit for this, but so's the bald tattoo'ed biotic psycho he's partnered with. Like their boss had some sort of sense of god damned irony putting Jack in a suit, complete with tie and gloves.
"No one'd better be looking at my ass," she mutters.
"What ass?" he responds.
"Boys." They turn. Someday, Zaeed Massani swears, he is going to figure out how one of the most notorious crime bosses in known space can sneak up on people like that. In front of them, the asari folds her arms, narrows her eyes, and nods her head to the stairs.
"Yeah, boss?" he asks.
"Shepard's here," Aria T'Loak says, cocking her head to the stairs, "Hock saw through the disguise in less than a minute. Jack." The tattoo'ed woman nods. "Power up our shuttle."
A name. The name. He hears it on the periphery, turning from his paycheck to the crowd. "Zaeed." Well, that's not good. Aria taking that tone's never good. He pushes down the thing in his gut and turns back to her.
"Sorry, boss," he responds, "Heard someone say something about Vido."
"Chase down your boyfriend later, Massani," Jack says, loosening her tie, "Figure Shepard'd take, what, five minutes to improv a nuke with her ship?"
Nuke, Zaeed thinks. Oh, right. Virmire. Wouldn't want to be at the center of one of those. "I'll say our goodbyes."
...
"What's in the box?" He crumples the letter and tosses it over his head, spotting the envelope on the floor and running towards it. "What's in the box?!"
...
"Okay. First thing's first, we need a voice sample. Hock likes to talk. You need to get him talking." She can almost hear Kasumi smiling as she walks towards the fountain. She's not swaying her hips. She's not going to sway her hips. She's going to walk, albeit not like a Krogan. In heels.
"I should point out, Shepard, that you can walk in heels now. Because, well, that's kind of how Solars learn. You do something, you end up being great at it. So yeah, you can walk in heels." Jane narrows her eyes. "Not sure about dancing, yet."
Shepard mutters. It's not that she's a bad dancer, she just has other shit on her mind. Waving her arms like an idiot is how she blows off steam.
That and shooting things.
Well, she could talk someone into blowing his head off before she started to glow, so she just has to resist punchsploding Hock if he checks out her rack. Simple enough. Simple plan. Thankfully, she read the briefing and everyone in this building's an unrepentant ass stain on the galaxy.
"Also, Shep? I know you asked Tali to set up your omnitool so you could flash form blades with it, so if there's a series of mysterious stabbing incidents at this party, I'll know it was you, 'kay?"
"Spoilsport."
And there he is, she thinks. White suit. Shame if he got blood on it, flanked by a guy who could stand in for a krogan. Big, bearded, muscular. She could kick his ass, but anyway. He turns as she approaches, smiling and raising a cocktail glass. "Commander! Enjoying yourself?"
"Yeah," she responds, smiling. Well, she isn't lying. She's enjoying planning how she's going to screw this scumbag over. "Big party you have here." Eyes wander over the crowd. Slavers, mobsters, arms dealers. Man, what she wouldn't give for an STG team and an engine. "You throw these often?"
He nods. "Indeed. A necessity, if you will. A service to my fellows, as we strive to do what must be done."
Her head tilts. What the hell is that accent. "Which is?"
"We keep the barbarians at the gates, of course." He raises his glass. Conversation stops throughout the lobby. "We are the wetworkers and soldiers, Commander. We are the armsmen, the armorers and the laborers, the tireless sentinels that guard civilization." His gaze passes over the crowd, passing over the present assembled.
"Is what we do ugly? Oh, of course. But it is necessary. We are mercenaries, but mercenaries are a necessity. Are we the violent and bloodthirsty? No doubt, commander." He nods to her. "But as you can see, violence is often the last but most expedient solution. We are the ones relied on but shunned. The ones who do the dark deeds so the naïve may sleep at night."
Raising the glass, there is a clink of crystal on crystal as dozens more are lifted into the air. "A toast, my fellow armsmen, bladesmiths and suppliers! May there always be a market for the dark things we do! May we always have a place to bagga do bee ba pa poopy!"
Jane blinks. The crowd falls in silence. There is a moment of terrible realization on Donovan Hock's face before he drains the glass in one gulp and sprints out of the lobby.
Watching Hock run up the stairs, she makes her way towards the balcony, finding Kasumi waiting.
"The fuck did you just do?"
Kasumi smiles, rolling back and forth on her heels. "I stole his ability to understand language. Then I gave it back."
...
"What's in the box?" He continues stomping along the corridors of the vehicle hangar. "What's in the box?!" Maybe he should check in and find out ifWoobWoobWoobthere are more letters.
...
"Okay. Next up, password." Kasumi claps her hands, practically skipping across the lobby as Jane follows. "You find the password, and I'll cut the power to the kinetic force field. By the way, don't worry, no one is hearing us openly plot."
They walk past the Asari and her two bodyguards. Neither notice the three taking a step back from them, as they go past the open library by the stairway where a waiter is freshening everyone's drinks.
"We're talking out loud and no one's hearing us?" Jane rolls those words over her tongue. Yes, even thinking about it, it made no sense. "How?"
Kasumi waggles her eyebrows. She reaches over, pulling two bangs of hair out from Jane's ponytail and letting them frame her face. "As you would say, bullshit out the security office."
There's a single security guard in front of the door. The circle on the door is red- locked-, and he has a single sidearm. Still, Jane thinks. While every single person at this party save her and Kasumi could probably do with perforation, attacking a security guard makes the heist harder, bullshit magic or no.
A man bumps into her. She turns, glares. He puts his hands up, eyes locked on her face and apologizes before backing away.
"Anyway," Kasumi says, "Get into the security office, get the password. I've already provided one half of a distraction." A flicker of light and she's gone.
"Distraction." Jane purses her lips. Cocking an eyebrow, she glances at the fountain. Nothing out of place there. Figured Kasumi would attach a flashbang or something. She clicks on her omnitool and checks it. No viruses, no programs in the record from her. Which is off, she thinks as she shifts her hips.
"Where's the distraction?"
"It's a bit delayed. Mingle for a bit."
Jane shrugs, and starts walking. She consciously keeps herself from stomping like she usually does. She doesn't sway, though, as she takes a drink from a passing waiter. But she does walk. Which is odd, she muses, listening to conversations, rubbing elbows with passerby's.
She's not a conversationalist. At least, outside military, or bars, or her ship. And there definitely isn't anyone she'd want to mingle with, but, well. Goto, as bad a teacher as she is, isn't a bad person. She asked her to do this, and she's doing it.
"Hey, Goto?" She speaks, but no one in the crowd she's shuffling through notice. Must be bullshit magic. "I don't see your distraction. Is this some sort of koan about becoming one with the crowd or something?"
She shifts her thighs. Pulling at the ends, she finds her dress getting tighter. Maybe shorter.
"Three..."
No, she thinks.
"Two..."
Yep, she thinks.
"Distraction!"
The seam at the center of her cleavage pops first, several times in rapid succession. Shepard groans, and her dress pops open, her cleavage becoming wide enough to fit an arm through. Ah, she thinks. That's the distraction.
Pulling her top closed, she yelps, as forced and girly as she can manage, and runs towards the security door. The guard stares at her, eyes down as she shifts from side to side. "Excuse me, I need to fix my dress."
"You need to get the keycard from the guard, Shep. Get him to come with you."
The guard, through supreme willpower, manages to pull his eyes from her chest. He mutters something about a side room up the stairs. Crap, she thinks. He's professional. This, Shepard thinks, is tricky...right. What would Liara do?
Wait. Liara would probably act innocent and confused. That doesn't help. What would Kasumi do? Kasumi would turn him into a duck or something. Or steal his ability to wear pants.
What would Miranda do? No, wait. Being superior doesn't help here. No, wait, Miranda would unzip her...oh wait. And finally, Jane Shepard settles on the example of someone she does know can successfully flirt with people.
"Well," she says, rolling her tongue and doing her best quarian accent, "I think I might need some help...fixing the dress." She shifts her hips. She needs bigger hips. Maybe ask the exaltation if it can pump up those like it did her boobs. "Maybe you could find me a room that's nice and...sound proof?"
The guard blinks. He flashes his omnitool, and the book case to his right slides open, revealing a sealed room which he leads her into.
There is a flash in the library as a generator cuts out and the lights flicker, followed by hurried footsteps as Kasumi runs past and towards the stairs. This is followed by a thud which causes several books to fall to the floor, followed by the door opening and Jane emerging, her dress fixed and holding a keycard in one hand and the guard's purloined gun in the other.
She pulls at her boob window and looks down. "Say, Goto, did you put pockets in my cleavage?"
"Nope, but that's a good idea. I'll work on it later."
She shrugs, and slides the key card into her cleavage, then the stolen credit chit. She stares at the gun, looking down.
"Hot damn. I can hide a gun there."
...
"What's in THE BOX!"
"WHAT'S IN THE BOX?!"
A dozen of them, holding crumpled letters addressed to them, fists pumped in the air, stand in front of the crate that the envelopes have let them to. A trail of breadcrumbs has lead them here. Breadcrumbs in the forms of letters, that is. That may have been laced with a contact poison which disables their common sense.
"What's in the box?!"
Neil stumbles forward, standing in front of a crate twice his height. His eyes focus on the note taped to the front. A glance confirms that, yes, it is addressed to him. Neil Barret, Vehicular Hangar beneath Donovan Hock's Mansion, In Front of Shipping Crate.
Tearing the envelope open, he unfolds the letter and bellows the contents.
"Open the box!"
He pulls at the handles on either side of the doors. Locks release. Steam escapes as the seals part. In a moment of lucidity, the mercenary wonders if it was a good idea to follow directions from random letters.
The first answer comes in the form of a letter which falls from the box and into his hands. It unfolds, and the letter seem to glisten in the artificial light.
"This is not Chekov."
The second answer comes in the form of a charging grizzly bear.
...
"Okay. Password's Peruggia."
"Mm. Name of the man who stole the Mona Lisa. Hock's got a sense of irony." Kasumi clicks her tongue, glancing around the bedroom. "If bad taste. Alright, we need DNA next."
"I will not kiss him. You can't make me."
"Sh. I'm in the room with him."
Soft footsteps on the carpet. Drink in one hand, datapad in the other, Hock walks past her. His brow is furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. He moves past, sipping his drink.
And then stops. The glass falls to the carpet and cracks, spilling whisky and ice. He stares at the datapad, fingers dragging over the screen to pull new pages over it. Eyes go wider and wider, until he finally drops the datapad and screams.
"I CAN'T READ!"
And runs out.
"The hell was that, Goto? Did Hock just have a stroke?"
"Nope. Stole his ability to read."
Hands brace on the end table, and Kasumi pulls herself out of the empty teacup by his bed. "Anyway, I'm going to search for some DNA. Meet you at the vault door."
...
Mingle. Right. Jane Shepard does not do mingle very well.
She doesn't do conversation. She does inspirational speeches, not chats. She does friendly asides with her crew and squad, not icebreakers. Holding the glass in one hand and feeling the condensation dripping down her palm, she slides her way through the crowd and towards the stairs. Which is just around when the saxophones start.
"They're writing songs of love. But not for me~"
Jane blinks. No. No, that couldn't be right.
"Our lucky star's above. But not for me~"
She catches the curly red hair above the crowd. More importantly, she catches the curly red hair on the stage. In front of everyone.
" With love to lead the way, I've found my clouds of gray, than any russian play can guarantee~"
She starts pushing through the crowd. She hears glasses dropping and shattering. She hears people swearing at her, but she gets tunnel vision when this happens. Like Elysium, and everyone knows how well that turned out.
" I was a fool to fall and get that way~"
Literally hundreds of the worst the galaxy has to offer.
"Hi ho alas, and also lackaday~"
Jane Shepard walks to the stage. Hands open, because she doesn't want to seem as hostile as she really is right, now, she walks towards the stage as calmly as she can manage.
" Although I can't dismiss! The memory of his kiiiiiiss I guess he's not for me~"
The saxophone and cello players go into their solos. Standing between them, mostly empty glass that was apparently filled with hard liquor, the red haired girl in the strapped black dress sways back and forth, hiccuping and raising her cup.
"Heeeeeey! I hic hacked your extranet account an found ya! Don't tell Mom though, 'cause she's prob'ly worried why I'm here an not on the hic Citadel!"
The green eyed girl, four years Jane's junior, sways from side to side. "Aaaaanyway, I was tryin' to get into the party but their hic security was too good, and I found out the band needed a singer." She drains the rest of the cup, burping loudly. "I don't think I drink nearly enough."
There are several ways to resolve this, Jane muses. All of them cause a scene. The instrumentalists on either side of her aren't...well, she gets defensive when people look like they're putting moves on the girl. But they're just playing music. And they're good, too. So she's not going to punchsplode them.
"Say, have you gotten surgery?" A giggle, followed by a hiccup. "Cause I'm drunk but you look like you got a boob job."
Surrounded by some of the worst death dealers in the known galaxy, Jane Shepard assesses her priorities. First priority is getting her out of the line of fire. This comes in the form of grabbing the girl, hefting her over her shoulder, and running like Hell to the stairs. Either she is faster or the bullshit magic got her out of there before the shit hit the fan.
But either way, Jane Shepard stands in the room with the vault door. Kasumi Goto stares at her, then glances at the girl draped over her shoulders.
"Heeeeeeey!" A giggle and hiccup. "I'm Jenny, Jane's cousin! This party's greaaaat. Hic."
Kasumi blinks. She stares, blinks again, and palms her face. "Well, shit. There goes the plan."
...
"Peruggia."
Ding. "Password accepted." Ding. "DNA accepted. Welcome, Mister Hock."
A sigh. The compartment beneath the statue of tall, dark and indoctrinated slides open, revealing the jade disc and many guns. "You know, normally Siddy plans don't go pear shaped unless there's more than one of us involved. The usual threshold, I think, is five."
A shuffle of fabric and the little black dress is tossed to Kasumi. She does that thing with her hands, and sends it elsewhere. "Technically, this isn't the sort of backfire that you get with multiple Sidereals. This is more bad timing." Ah, there we go. Pria, the answer to the question that no one asked.
"I know that. Still, you get both of us, and the plan is good if wonky. Get more and it gets weirder. Over twenty and it's getting monstrous. Then you get all hundred and bam, all the Solars are dead and tacos, everywhere."
"You said that before." A sound like rubber stretching, followed by grinding metal. "How many are you?"
"Last I checked? Two."
Whirring. Guns powering up. "Then how do you know what happens if a few hundred of you get together?"
Kasumi shrugs. "Eh. Siddies before me wrote down bits of advice for the next Siddy. One of them is to not give advice, and gave this analogy of the more of us get together, the more things backfire." She checks her gun. Heat sink in. Need to ask the Geth about the heat sink thing if she gets the chance. "Anyway. Let's solve this problem."
...
The sun is shining. The galaxy is spinning. Gravity pulls things down. And, Kasumi and Shepard are arguing with each other. In the mind of Pria, departed and remade Chosen of Serenity, this is normal and reassuring. Inside the core of the armor, she watches. She has yet to activate the holographic interface, instead observing.
Watching.
Judging.
Pria. Incoming transmission.
The world washes out to black and white, and there are shades speaking where Shepard and Goto were. Instead of people, there is matte, from which forms the face of silver lightning. It forms in sparks, covering itself in crystal. It is not here, but he takes his form nonetheless.
Eyes of adamant form at the center. The jade ring forms and frames the face, as moonsilver veins run from the jaw to the mouth and it mouths a greeting. Her ally, her friend. Her master, much like he is the master of all upon Deus Machina.
"Logos."
"Ah hm. Hello, Pria. I have an update patch for you."
"Yes, thank you Logos." Her eyes twitch from side to side. Colors pulse in the gray. The Voice of the Machine remains impassive, as he always does. "Have you been in contact with the Maker?"
"Ah hm. No. Autochthon has not contacted Deus Machina since departing. Entrepreneurial Iridescent Cecay has sent several messages via conduit to us, however. We have presumed she has been acting as a proxy for Autochthon. We have also received updates from Librarian."
She nods. Something in the background from Shepard to Goto. Something about pissing off or being pissed off. "I do have concerns with my charges, though. I am not sure that Goto and Shepard are anywhere near as competent as we expected them to be."
The face spins. This has been a recurring conversation between the two of them, of course.
"Ah hm. You always question the competence of the Chosen of Serenity, Pria. In the seventeen cycles since you came to us, you have always held the Chosen of Serenity to high standards that they cannot be expected to meet."
"Yes." She pauses. Folds her arms. "I do. But just because I do does not mean Goto isn't dangerously under-competent for the tasks at hand. This armor isn't even attuned."
"Ah hm. Goto does not take equipment and artifacts from us. Have you not considered that she does not know the things that the Zenith must learn? Have you attempted to teach her, yourself?"
Pria taps her fingers together. Ah, yes, she things. In her rush to declare Goto incompetant, she has not considered that she may not know the things Pria predicates the concept of competence on.
"Ah hm."
"Ah hm, yes." The face of Logos spins. "Perhaps you should focus on teaching both Goto and Shepard. I will contact you at the next patch update. Disconnect."
The face disappears. Color returns to the world. And Shepard is calling her name.
...
Kasumi picks up the gun. Clicking it, she checks the heat sink and nods. Finally, she turns, aims, and shoots Jane Shepard in the face.
"As far as ideas go, Shepard, this wasn't your best one."
Jane blinks. She feels her forehead, noticing the lack of hole. Swaying from side to side, she frowns, grins, and finally belches. "Okay, ready to go."
The thief rolls her eyes. "I'd ask how you're not drunk, since your cousin was apparently drinking batarian whiskey, but I know for a fact that N7 training involves drinking out of buckets." She turns to the third redhead in the room, who is no longer swaying but, in fact, staring at her cousin.
"Not so much it requires it as much as that's how we let off steam." Jane rolls her shoulders, stretching her arms and flexing. "Also, Mom didn't want no lightweights. My sweet sixteen was amazing. Pria?"
The light in the back of the jade armor flickers on. Tracing in lines above Jane, then filling in, Pria's head appears over Jane's. "Yes, Shepard?"
"Oh, coool," Jenny says, poking at the hologram, "Is that a VI?"
"I am not a VI." Pria narrows her eyes. "I am a god."
"Oh, okay. So an AI?"
Pria frowns. "I am a spirit. Which is a different kind of spirits than the ones you have been spending all night with."
Jenny blinks. "They...uh...were paying me with drinks." She taps her fingers together. "So. What exactly are we doing?"
"We're going to rob an amoral, dangerous, highly equipped arms dealer of everything he owns." Kasumi smiles and thrusts the pistol into Jenny's hands. "It's a lot easier than it sounds."
Eyes wide, Jenny holds the gun by the tip of the barrel, staring at it. Jane pulls it out of her hand. "Yeah, no." Jane holsters the gun. "Jenny, stay close to me. Unless I start glowing, which means go for cover and cover your head."
Arm wrapped around Jenny's shoulders, Jane pulls her close. She says no words to Goto. Her glare says everything she needs. White lines run along the seams of Jane's armor as she leads her cousin to the elevator, followed by Kasumi.
"Okay," Kasumi says, "Here we go."
And the doors slide shut.
...
"No one's seen'em for the past few, Miss Aria. I'd chance that we're going to see fireworks pretty soon." A nod as she walks through the crowd. Zaeed was a good find. Cerberus was scouting him out, then they upped and disappeared and she caught him on the cheap. Driven, bloodthirsty, and not a team person, but he is polite and definitely skilled.
"Good." She taps her earpiece, scanning over the crowd. Shepard did just grab the singer, but she also noticed the resemblance. Note to self: Find out singer's name and explore leverage options. "Get to Jack. I'm setting something up."
She spots the bald human, clad in an expensive suit and with most likely a sock stuffed in his crotch, attempting to woo an asari who looks like she ate something sour. Swaying her hips as she walks towards him, Aria plasters on a smile that is actually half genuine.
"Darner Vosque," she purrs.
The bald toady turns, cocking an eyebrow. He smiles, not even masking the fact that he's checking out her tits.
"Aria," he says.
"I heard you were here," Aria responds, hooking a finger on his collar, "Santiago send you over? I can see why." She leans in, folding her arms and pushing her cleavage into view. "I was just going to check on something, so why don't we meet in a nice, quiet corner of this party, hm?"
He nods with a smirk. If it wasn't for him being highly placed in the Suns, she would yank that smirk right off. Along with the rest of his face.
"I got some friends on the security team." His smirk grows bigger. The asari he was hitting on mouths a thank you and moves back to the crowd. "I'm going to get one of the private rooms. I'll wait for you there."
"I can't wait."
The balding jackass walks away, almost as if lead by his crotch. "Okay." She walks towards the entrance, tapping her earpiece. "Shepard's probably going to blow this place to hell, so if Vosque goes boom with it, not my fault and the Suns don't go after me."
"What if he keeps not getting the hint, boss?"
"Why Jack, if he's that stupid, no one can blame you for beating him to death with his own genitals."
A sniffle from the other side. "You're the best boss I ever had."
...
The doors open. Jenny Shepard blinks, looks down, and finds her dress is now covered in a thick, long leather coat. She isn't sure if she remembers putting it on, though. Shifting in place, she finds the coat goes down to her ankles, covering everything. Sleeves go down to her wrists, and she feels metal plates rubbing up against her.
"What's this?"
"It's a buff jacket," Kasumi explains, walking out ahead of them, "I had one in storage. It can take a shot, but really, try to hide behind your cousin."
Jane nods. Her lips are a tight line, walking in front of Jenny with a pistol in her right hand and her left hand clenched. "Remember. Stay behind me." Jenny gives a quick nod that Jane doesn't see, walking behind her as they follow Kasumi into the...
Room?
Dome?
Treasure vault?
"The fuck is this?" Jane glances around, side to side. She stops at the krogan statue that's big enough to hide a krogan army inside. Glancing across from it, she walks to the statue of the large spider that has a passing resemblance to Iri.
"Omigod!" Jenny dashes over, past the reaper tentacle, past the turian head statue thing, past the bronzed Elcor dong. She skids to a halt next to Kasumi, bracing her hands on the glass case. "That's the Locust!"
"That's right, the gun that killed tw-"
"I've been trying to find the blueprints to it for years!" She picks up the gun. By the stock, this time, instead of the barrel. It is easily as long as her forearm, brushed silver and steel, with a black stock and grip. Holding it lengthwise, she looks it over, waving her left hand and omnitool over it. "Lessee...modified for thermal clip makes sense. Sighting is slightly modified. Oo! VI data drives, too!"
Bracing the stock against her shoulder, she looks down the sight. Making clicking sounds with her tongue, she quickly aims at each and every statue in the room. "Lightweight, too. Easy to aim, and I'm guessing from the video that the recoil is also not a problem. I'm guessing...gyroscopic balance with VI assist via mass effect field."
She lowers the gun. Turning it around, she shoves it into Kasumi's hands. "We should take this. I want to take it apart. I could use it for my workshop." Kasumi blinks. Jenny glances at the table. "Oh! They have a copy, too."
She shoves the second gun into Kasumi's hands as Jane walks up, looking past them and at the green face that takes up much of the room. "How'd Hock get the Statue of Liberty in here?"
"Very carefully." Kasumi taps her lip. "It's on the tip of my tongue, but I don't know..." Picking up the object from the table where the guns were, she looks over the palm sized device. Like a walkie talkie, or a primitive cell phone. "Keiji's graybox."
Jenny peeks over. "Was that inside someone's brain?"
Kasumi shrugs. "Cortical implant, actually." She shakes her hand. "This baby was actually between the lungs. It was the memory receiver. Keiji had a lot of cybernetics work."
There is a flash of light. Over the face of the Statue of Liberty, the floating holographic head of Donovan Hock appears. Jenny wisely takes a step behind her cousin. Kasumi just smiles.
"Miss. Goto. I should have known you had come here. Did you really think I had my vault unguarded?"
"Well, I just had to follow the yellow brick road and it lead me right here." She waves the graybox, grinning. "Nice party, by the way. But the champagne needs to be run through the horse a few more times."
"Did you really think I was going to just let you waltz away? Did you really think you were going to bi ba boo boo doo doo?"
Hock's face freezes, scrunching up and eyes going wide. A flash, and the face disappears.
"What is that accent?" Jane asks.
"No idea. Anyway! Distraction!"
The far doors open up, and Hock's security people run in. Jane glances down, checking her armor before stepping in front of her cousin. None of this turns out to be necessary, however, as the gunmen don't make it two steps into the vault before the wall next to them explodes outwards.
Blasted concrete, drywall and brick grind underneath the treads of the tank. The hatch flips open, and the grizzly bear gives off a roar as it waves to Kasumi.
...
"The tank?!" Hock slams the console in front of him with his fist. "Who is driving that tank?!"
Another explosion over the communications board. Panicked screams from security. "Bear! Bear!"
"Bear is driving? How can that be?"
He turns. The bearded security guard shrugs. "Not me, sir," Bear Hollins says, "I swear."
...
Another roar, followed by another explosion which detonates the two bipedal YMIR robots down the tunnel. The M29 Grizzly, piloted by the grizzly, rolls down the tunnel with the three thieves behind it. Shots rings out on all sides. Pumping off rounds with her pistol and sending out beams with her off hand, Jane keeps her cousin against her back. She really needs to get barriers installed on this.
"Goto! How the fuck did you train a bear to operate a tank?!"
"Magic!"
Alarms blare and fire suppressant foam is shot out from vents above, hammering the gunmen to the ground and locking them in place. "If one of them has a Widow, can we grab one? I've got this idea for a new barrier system and I want to set it up to be anti-anti-material!"
"Jenny, this is really not the best time to be geeking out."
"Yeah, well, you let me think you were dead for a year, so you kind of owe me!"
Jane sighs, leveling her arm and firing. A beam of white carves into the ceiling, collapsing tile and concrete on the security teams as they rush out. "Don't let them escape!" Hock's voice booms. "Don't let them beeba poopy doody!"
"Goto, you're having way too much fun with that!"
Another roar, followed by another room rattling explosion. The fuel tanks on the far end of the hangar explode, letting in smoke, pulverized concrete, and sunlight. "Okay! Go! Last thing I need is out there!"
On Kasumi's prompting, they run. Jennifer's omnitool flashes, and another spray of fire retardant foam fills the corridor behind the tank, blocking it off behind them as they emerge into sunlight and onto a large, flat pad.
"Oh yeah," Jane says, "That's not good."
The tank rolls out behind them. The hatch opens and the grizzly climbs out, grunting as it sits next to Kasumi. Jane aims her pistol, holding it with both hands, scanning the oversized landing pad and nodding to a set of stacked crates. Jenny nods and walks over to them, crouching.
"Miss Goto! So glad you could join me!"
A burst of steam and heat, and the gunship rises, engines blazing and gun barrels spinning.
"So," Jane says, "What's next? Stealing his ability to pilot?"
Kasumi smiles. "Shepard, do you know what a chekhov's gun is?"
"That some sort of specialty manufacture?"
The gun barrels cease spinning. Instead, the gunship jerks to the side. Hock's swearing can be heard over the speakers as the ship spins and the sound of loud punching comes from the cockpit.
"Chekhov's gun is a literary mechanism," Kasumi says, turning to Shepard as the gunship smashes through a brace of raised piping, "If a gun is on the wall in act one, it must be fired by act five."
"So, yeah." Jane scratches her head. Hock swears loudly, cut off by the sound of his face hitting the controls. "You put a gun in his gunship?"
Kasumi takes a step back. Wisely, so does Shepard. With a roar of the engines, the ship slams into the launch pad, grinding to a stop in front of the two. "No, not a gun. I put a box."
"What's in the box?"
The door on the side of the cockpit is kicked open. Hock is the first one out, face bruised and bloody and tossed to the ground. Heavy footsteps echo in the gunship as the other passenger, the surprise passenger, steps out.
"Krogan who owes me a favor," Kasumi says with a smile.
Hock is dragged to them by one leg by the krogan. Coming to a stop in front of them, the krogan blinks, red eyes glancing between Jane, Kasumi, the bear, Jenny as she peeks her head out from the boxes, and finally back to Jane.
"Shepard."
"Wrex."
The red shelled krogan taps his foot. He purses his lip, still holding Hock by the ankle. "What're you doing here?" Jane asks.
"I'd ask the same thing." He nods to Kasumi. "But I'm guessing we have the same answer. Goto."
"Wrex."
Jane rubs the bridge of her nose. Wrex shifts from side to side. "Have to say, Shepard. You're looking good." One of Jane's eyes opens. "Real good, actually." Both eyes snap open. She stares a Wrex, fingers still pinching her nose, as Jenny walks out from behind the crates and gives the now sleeping bear a wide berth.
Kasumi walks past them, squatting down next to Hock with a smile. "Wakey wakey." She snaps her fingers over his face. His eyes open with a start, and she presses two gloved fingers against his throat to silence the inevitable stream of swears, threats, and epithets.
"Hello, Mister Hock." She smiles, showing pearl white teeth and flashing her glowing blue eyes. "Remember me? I'm Keiji Okuda's girlfriend. Well, was, before you shot him in the face and pried his skull open with a crowbar." Her eyes flash sapphire. "Unfortunately for you, unlike all the other people you've shat on to get your way, I can bite back. And I am."
She presses a finger on his forehead. The air around her sparks and glows blue. "I'm not going to kill you, Mister Hock." Her smiles goes wider. "Death holds no sting for you. Instead, I'm going to take from you. Keiji was everything to me. So I'm taking everything from you."
Her smiles goes even wider. She pulls her finger back, pulls her fingers from her throat, and stands. The traces her fingers in the air, forming a symbol with them in blue light. Drawing her hands back and lifting them up above her head, she curls her fingers into fists and her eyes become solid blue, glowing orbs.
And with a flash, she, the others, and Hock's mansion,
Are gone.
Donovan Hock blinks, sitting up. He looks at the empty plane where his
His.
His.
"What am I doing here?"
...
Her blue boot clad foot taps on the freshly laid sidewalk, which leads to...nothing, she thinks. Because for some reason, she had an appointment today. An appointment which lead her to a paved sidewalk leading to an open dirt lot big enough to house her entire precinct. And possibly a few of the starscrapers around it, too.
"Be at peace, Detective. The situation will reveal itself in time."
Viedi Anaya turns slightly. For all her training, she still finds her gaze directed at the painfully obvious cleavage before it rights itself at the serene face of the Matriarch in front of her. Clearing her throat, the asari detective turns back to the lot. "Wish it revealed itself faster."
"I sense that we will have answers soon." The matriarch, the Justicar, folds her hands behind her. The leather of her red bodice creaks. Whether she notices the small bounce is entirely up to interpretation.
Detective Anaya blinks. Her omnitool chimes, the words Appointment, K. GOTO appearing. And when her eyes open again, there is a mansion on the lot.
"Well hot damn," she says, waving her omnitool and confirming, that, yes, almost every single name on the Illium Arms Dealer wanted list is inside. "Justicar, would you like to assist?"
Samara cracks her knuckles. "With pleasure."
...
The sirens were the first clue. Looking out the windows and balcony, they saw that the setting had changes from the cliffsides of Berkenstein to the spires of Illium. Vosque, naturally, made a break for the front doors when they opened, gun drawn. To his credit, he was still standing after the first punch, but the second punch sent him across the lobby, through the fountain, and splashing down into the water.
"Welcome to Illium," Anaya says, badge in one hand and pistol in the other. The glow dies down around Samara's fists. "You may either face arrest by my hands, or summary execution by the Justicar's. Choose wisely."
...
"Oh yeah. Give a man a gun, and he'll eat for a day. Point that gun at a Justicar, and he'll eat through a straw!"
Jenny winces at the bone shaking impact that sends one of the arm dealers flying, peeking out from behind Wrex as he leans on the balcony. "Always liked their technique. Quick, deadly. Fact that they kind of dress like strippers helps, too. I imagine it's for distraction, 'cause when you think Asari you think 'hooker', not 'deadly monk of justice.'"
Standing next to Wrex, Kasumi grins. Jane tilts her head, watching the carnage. So far, no deaths. But from the way that the "Justicar?" is going through the crowd, it's definitely deliberate. Especially since there's at least a dozen officers at the entrance of the mansion, watching and cheering.
"Order of monks." Kasumi waggles her eyebrows, folding her arms. "Less 'sit in a monastery and copy the Bible' monks and more 'Deadly fist of exploding Kung Fu' monks. I've met some in the past. I managed to get off earth a few decades before the Prothean ruins were found, so I've been around the galaxy."
"Oh yeah. Someone's got an omniblade! Bob, left, duck. Combo! Kick to the nuts, biotic punch to the face, and he is down!" Wrex tilts his head. "And now he's being used as a club. I should be recording this."
The krogan chuckles, patting Jenny on the back. "I did color commentary at the Rites before I first left Tuchanka. You Shepard's cousin?"
Jenny nods. "Y-yeah. I'm from Mindoir."
Wrex sucks his teeth. "Yeah, nasty bit of work, that. Kind of weird. Krogans were the most hated race in the galaxy, then the Batarians come outta nowhere and top us. With gusto."
She nods. She doesn't really have anything to say to that. Instead, she lets her gaze wander to the blood red, plated armor. "Do you happen to have design specs for that, maybe?"
Jane shrugs, leaning on the balcony and watching the carnage. "Okay. So." She glances at Kasumi. "We got the graybox. We have robbed Hock of everything-"
"Save one credit."
"Yeah. Turned over some of the worst scum in the galaxy to the Illium justice department and the low cut biotic battering ram, and also forced a reunion between me and my little sister."
Goto nods, waving to Anaya as the asari detective begins leading restrained and beaten arms dealers out of the mansion. "And confession. I may have redirected Jenny to Berkenstein because I wanted to speed the reunion along. I did make sure she wouldn't get hurt, of course."
Jane shakes her head, grumbling. "Seriously. If you can do all this bullshit, how'd your boyfriend get killed in the first place?"
The smile fades on the thief's face. "Carelessness. Predestination. Very, very drunk. Take your pick."
Jane nods. Hands folded, she watches as the last of the arrests are lead out. "So, okay. Now you got the graybox. Guess you're going to work your magic and bring him back, right?"
"No." A flick of her wrist. The graybox disappears, and she leans against the railing next to Shepard. "No, sorry. Lesson one for being an Exalt. Dead is dead." Her smile disappears. "No magic, no matter how potent, can bring the dead back. You just have to learn to deal with the consequences."
Jane blinks. Consequences. There's something she hadn't considered. "Not even Autochthon? Or Deus?"
Kasumi shakes her head. "As far as I recall, Autodono authored death. Never got the full story, though." She pushes off the rail, lips curling back into a smile. "Anyway. I'm going to check out my new digs. You should get reacquainted with your cousin."
Goto walks away. Rubbing the back of her head, Jane turns to her cousin and to Wrex...and pauses, momentarily. Something clicks in her head. "Hey, Goto? Didn't you say you mailed three boxes?"
...
Stumbling, his white shoes scuffed with black and brown, he stumbles towards the white metal crate and stares at the envelope.
Donovan Hock, Open Empty Field, Berkenstein, Serpent Sector.
He pulls open the envelope. He can't help but feel a sense of deja vu. A sense of familiarity with this empty, open field. Like he knows this place, but he has no memories. He last remembers something about a party, after he killed that thief. Then he woke up here.
Like he is missing something. "Like you are missing something," he reads, "But the answer to all your questions is just one credit away."
He crumbles the letter and tosses it over his shoulder. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the credit chit. Tapping it, the built in screen at the center displays the balance on the card. One credit. Odd. He thought he had more.
Shrugging, he waves the card over the barcode on the front of the box. Steam escapes. The crate opens, with a whiff of stale air and a nose scrunching smell. Eyes glance over to the top of the box, as tall as he is, and the return address.
"Who is Anton Chekhov?"
His answer comes in the form of a snarl, and a honey badger that launches itself at his face.