Chapter Summary: In which Jacob turns out to be not quite so much of a jerk. Maybe.
Tags/Warnings: Slow Build; Friends to Lovers; Demisexual Shepard; Garrus is a Great Best Friend; Swearing; Sexual Tension; Blood and Injury; Canon-Typical Violence; Rating Will Change Later in Story
(This chapter continues an arc that covers Jacob's loyalty mission and its repercussions. I'm therefore adding a TRIGGER warning: this and the following chapters in this story arc will make more obvious the non-con sexual abuse of the shipwreck survivors strongly implied by the in-game mission. There will be no explicit descriptions, however.)
Standard Disclaimer: Everything Mass Effect is owned by BioWare, and I receive no financial benefit from this fanfiction.
Many, many thanks and dozens of drell cookies to my amazing beta, N7Siha.
Shepard sat in the mess after dinner, simply relaxing as the crew chattered, joked, and gossiped around her. This is nice, she sighed. No reports to slog through, no requisitions to prioritize. Guess getting paperwork done is the one benefit of bed rest and light duty. Her 'to-do' list had only one goal for the evening: checking on Tali down in engineering. Having the quarian back at last left Shepard almost giddy with relief. Her makeshift family felt more complete.
She toyed with the idea of adding "Visit Thane" to the list. Although he hadn't said anything on Haestrom, she knew he was unhappy about her decision to lead the mission. Maybe more than unhappy, Shepard recalled, rotating her right shoulder with a small frown. I'm surprised he didn't implode when the scanners verified geth presence. If his lips had gone any flatter, they'd have disappeared.
But his appearance had gone back to neutral almost immediately, and he'd seemed fine once they were in the thick of things. Thane wasn't the type to lecture or hold a grudge. He didn't even say "I told you so" when her repaired leg spasmed and locked up as the last geth went down. Of course, words weren't necessary with the worried, disappointed look on his face. As he offered a hand up, that expression had bothered her more than the damn muscle cramps.
After they returned to the ship, that look had popped up a couple of times in her memory. She hadn't realized before how guilt-inducing those big, black eyes could be. His anger would be easier to deal with; she could argue with anger. But concern? Up-close, heartfelt concern? She didn't know what to do with that.
A tall shadow loomed over the table, interrupting her thoughts. "Commander, do you have a minute?" Jacob stood at attention, damn near as stern and stoic as Councilor Sparatus. And he sounded more serious than usual, even subdued.
Damn, shit, and fuckity fuck. Not Jacob "Cerberus Flunky" Taylor. Not when I have a chance to unwind. Why do the bureaucracy gods do this to me?
But…maybe it wouldn't take long. He might just want to verify the game plan for their arrival in Alpha Draconis tomorrow. Despite her reservations about him on a personal level, she couldn't help but feel sympathy for his situation. Would their search lead to the MSV Hugo Gernsback and his missing father? Could they hope for survivors, even after all this time? Or was the out-of-the-blue distress signal some kind of mechanical glitch?
If he keeps to that topic, we'll be fine, she tried to convince herself. Just don't give him a reason to bring up Garrus. Or Thane. Or Tali. And don't let him piss you off.
She forced something smile-like onto her face while making eye contact. "Sure, Jacob. Armory or my office?"
"Armory's fine." He took a step back as she stood, and they headed toward the elevator. Waiting at the doors, he shot an exaggerated glance toward life support. "You don't get much down time, so thanks. I know I'm…cutting in and all."
And there's thinly-veiled xenophobic comment #1. Does he do it on purpose, or is he an accidental asshole? She pretended not to notice his reference to Thane and silently counted to ten in Japanese. Despite the many "make friends, not enemies" speeches she'd given Garrus, her own temper tended to flare when it came to Cerberus. Things with Miranda had improved after protecting her sister Oriana on Illium, but finding common ground with Jacob beyond their shared Alliance service was proving more difficult. His open dislike of both Garrus and Thane was a big part of the problem.
She strode into the elevator when the doors opened. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure I'll still have plenty of time to get caught up with Tali." Tali. Damn it, I just gave him an opening for thinly-veiled xenophobic comment #2. The poor command deck button suffered a hard jab as it took the brunt of her irritation.
"Oh, yeah, Tali. I, um, might owe her an apology," he muttered. "Throwing EDI's AI status in her face right after she arrived…probably not a good move on my part." He looked hopeful Shepard might let him off the hook with another casual dismissal. Oh, hell no. Not gonna happen. She simply gazed at him, impassive, though she had to admit privately to some surprise. He's willing to apologize? Really?
A minute later, she leaned back against her preferred armory workstation, holding eye contact a little too long for casual conversation. When Jacob fidgeted in response, she finally spoke, trying for a neutral tone. "That first conversation with Tali definitely wasn't your best moment. She'd just spent hours fighting geth, knowing good friends and colleagues were dying to keep her safe. Only one of her team survived. And it sounds like she has good reason to distrust Cerberus—reasons on top of what we encountered while we chased Saren. Yes, she was hostile, and I've talked to her about it, but you were hostile right back. And you should know better. I need more restraint from you than that."
She continued in her sternest voice, some heat creeping in despite her best efforts. "I need this crew to get past all this Cerberus vs. non-Cerberus crap, Taylor. And you need to do your part. I won't order you to apologize, because that would be meaningless. But I need you to think about the group dynamic we're trying to build here and what's at stake. Think about it hard, because I don't want to hear you mouth off ever again at or about a team member, especially a non-human one. Cerberus's 'humanity first' and 'progress at any cost' bullshit will not be tolerated on this ship. Every crewmember under my command has equal worth and deserves your full respect and cooperation. Is that clear?"
"Understood, Commander." He stood fully upright, back and shoulders military straight, and she almost expected him to snap off a salute. "I admit I was out of line, and I will make it right. In fact, I asked you here to talk about another squad member I haven't…welcomed the way I should."
She crossed her arms as one hand came up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "This isn't another complaint about Garrus and armory supplies, is it?" Mordin down the hallway could probably hear her frustrated sigh.
"Damn, I've really come across as an anti-alien jerk, haven't I?" Jacob dipped his head and blew out a deep breath. When he looked back up he continued, "The turian and I are…fine now. He came to talk to me and we worked it out. Even discovered a few things in common. No, this is about…Krios."
In a split second she was back to impassive. She gave him her best poker face, waiting for him to continue.
"You haven't named a third member for our mission tomorrow," he began. "And I want to request someone specific to join us." He shifted uncomfortably and broke eye contact. "I'd like Krios."
Thane? She tried hard to keep her jaw from dropping. "You want 'that damn assassin'? The 'precise mercenary' you can't trust at your back? Did I miss something? Maybe my recent concussion is causing delayed hallucinations. I think I need to see Chakwas."
By this time Jacob was scowling. "Yeah, laugh it up, Commander. I already said I was a jerk and need to do better, so give me a break here." She held up a hand and nodded in apology.
He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. "When Vakarian and I had our talk, I asked him point blank about Krios. He didn't hesitate. Said there wasn't anyone except himself he trusted more to have your back. I know you and the turian go way back, that you're tighter than most families. Hearing him say it so plain, it made me rethink. I went back and rewatched some mission recordings, and Vakarian was right. Krios puts it all out there for every team member, every time. If you direct him to a sniper perch or other cover, he always follows your orders to a 'T', but otherwise he never holds back to keep himself safe."
He paused for a moment before continuing. "When Krios carried you to med bay after your injury, I could see that he's…invested in this mission. This isn't just a paycheck or a debt he needs to settle. Plus he's got skills," he acknowledged. "I don't know what we'll find tomorrow. Probably just some ghosts. But if we run into trouble, he can handle close combat or go long range. We could even combine our biotic attacks for extra damage. So, yeah, I want Krios. Will you ask him?"
"I'm impressed, Jacob." She relaxed her stance and gave him an approving smile, wondering if she'd jumped the gun by lumping him in with his scummy boss. Maybe I need to give that attitude adjustment lecture to my mirror. "Admitting you made some mistakes and following through with better actions—those aren't easy things to do. And wanting Thane on the mission tomorrow is a smart call. But, no, I won't ask him."
"With his oath and all, he wouldn't even consider refusing if you asked him," Jacob pondered, thinking it through out loud. "You want him to feel free to decline. And he deserves a chance to tell me to my face to shove off if he wants to."
"Yes to all of the above," she smirked.
"You know he'll say yes anyway," Jacob countered, "because he's like Vakarian that way. If the turian isn't along to have your back, then Krios will be there. On the rare occasions when you leave them both behind, they hunker down in the main battery and have EDI forward the feeds there."
Really? That's…interesting. "And you still need to ask him yourself," she insisted. "Building a better group dynamic, remember? If you're going to grow into the kind of leader you're capable of becoming, Jacob, then you need to do this. What's more, you need to understand WHY you need to do this."
"The leader I'm capable of becoming, huh?" he asked with a cocky grin. "Okay, I'll walk you back to the elevator. You can get to that visit with Tali, and I'll stop off and visit life support."
"Good man." She took a step closer and put a hand on his shoulder. "After you talk to Thane, consider joining me down in engineering for a chat with our newest team member. If Gabby and Ken are free, there might be even be some Skyllian-Five."
Well, shit. Maybe I CAN pull this crew together.
After the mission brief the next morning, her attitude was less rosy. "Damn, I hate sleeping this time of year," she muttered in the elevator, rolling her neck and stretching her shoulder. How can I feel this lousy after beating both Ken and Jacob at poker last night? But maybe EDI's report on the latest scans was a good omen that the day will get better.
Arriving in the shuttle bay with her gear, she hesitated when she saw Thane already waiting near the Kodiak. I really should have checked with him last night, made sure we're okay. He was completely fine during the briefing, though. Maybe I should just leave things alone. If Haestrom still bothers him, he'll bring it up, right?
With that decided, she continued her approach. "Jacob isn't here yet? I had to armor up after the meeting and was sure he'd beat me down here."
He replied with a negative headshake and a small smile—a good sign, she figured, so she followed up. "While I have the chance, thank you for accepting his apology. I'm glad you agreed to join us."
"His regret and desire to make amends seemed sincere," Thane explained. She could hear the amusement in his lower register as he admitted, "And you knew I would not refuse the mission. Garrus would never forgive me if I turned down the third slot."
And…here come the goose bumps. Fuck, what is it about that rumble? She laughed, in part because Thane's dry humor always tickled her, but mostly in hopes of covering up that damn shiver reaction. Since her recovery, nearly any vibration could send her back to the memory of being carried in his arms, feeling his deep chuckle resonate from his chest through her body like small earthquakes.
Even more disconcerting, each shiver was joined by recurring visual flashes—lithe muscles, green scales, black stripes…and a bare shoulder she somehow knew was warm to the touch. But the fragments of memory, if that's what they were, kept slipping away from her. They can't be memories…can they? He said my behavior that night didn't include anything embarrassing—I was just sleepy and a bit giggly. But…Thane's a considerate guy. He probably wouldn't mention it even if I'd stripped naked and danced on the coffee table. I really hope I didn't do something that bad. Or even less bad. Like confess I maybe want to see him without his coat.
Damn, I need to stop thinking that. He's my friend. I have no interest in ogling my friends.
Do I?
Thane stepped closer, apparently troubled by her distracted silence. "Shepard, are you well enough for this investigation? You led the mission on Haestrom less than 72 hours ago. You confronted a colossus—on foot—while still recovering from a serious concussion and the repairs to your leg. And now you're leading another operation with a troubling number of unknowns. If you need a day of rest, 24 hours is unlikely to change whatever awaits us on the surface."
With an effort, she dragged her attention back to the conversation. "Jacob might disagree with that assessment," she sighed with a hint of irritation. "And we've already covered this, Thane. When I saw those geth signatures on the planet, I had to get Tali out of there. She may have been conducting research for her people, but she is still a member of my team, my…family. I could have lost her. She could have been GONE."
The emotion thickening her voice felt too much like suffocation, making her pause to clear her throat. "So damn straight I led that mission. I would never ask my team to take on those kinds of risks in my place. And I'm fine now, leg included. Even Chakwas says I'm completely cleared for all duty."
"I don't wish to argue, Shepard." Thane took another step and dropped his voice in both pitch and volume. "You know I respect your leadership and dedication. But consider: there is no Collector mission without you. I ask only that you shift some of the attention you focus on your crew to your own wellbeing."
Those dark eyes, with their hint of green…and that something in his voice… . She fought off the urge to just sink into them and instead placed a hand on his arm and squeezed gently. "I'll try, Thane, I promise." His eyes widened in surprise and she blushed, yanking her hand back. Why am I embarrassed? I mean, he started it, touching my hand in life support the other night.
Stepping away in confusion, she cast a flustered glance at the elevator. "Now, where is Jacob? Those life signs EDI described in the briefing should have him eager to get going."
"I believe he needed a few minutes of privacy, to take in that news and its ramifications," Thane commented. "He'd convinced himself there would be no survivors, even though he felt compelled to search. The scans offer a chance that his father lives. And unexpected hope for a positive outcome can be more difficult to master than the certainty of loss."
Her face was somber as she nodded, thinking back to the final topic of their recent chat. "Yep, you're right about that. Hope sucks."
He obviously wanted to follow up when the elevator doors opened. "There you are, Jacob," she called, glad for the distraction. "Ready to head out?"
"Ready as I'll ever be, Commander," he replied. She watched, pleased, as he stretched a hand out to Thane. "And thanks again for joining us, Krios. I know you'll be an asset, especially now that we've registered life signs down there."
Thane accepted both the words and gesture with a grave nod. "I am honored by your trust."
As they prepared for departure, her mind reviewed the gaps in their intel. "Is there anything else you can tell us about the Gernsback, Jacob? Its mission, crew complement, what supplies it might have been carrying? Anything that could give us a better idea of what we might find down there?"
"My father didn't talk much about his work. Resentment, I guess, at slow promotions and never making captain. But I did some research when I got that ping about the beacon."
Once the shuttle was underway, he continued, "The Gernsback was a commercial exploratory freighter, a big one, with a full complement of 180 to 240 crew. It was designed for fast travel and lengthy tours of deep space, sometimes as long as 3 years. Gives you some idea how often I saw my father as a kid."
You keep harping on that, Jacob, she thought. I'm guessing you're not as over your dad as you think.
"Usually the vessel stayed in an assigned area of space," he continued, "so it could respond quickly when newly-charted planets 'with potential' were reported. The idea was to swoop in and drop off a ground team to stake a claim, establishing a presence as fast as possible to shut out competitors, then hold the site until official planetary evaluation teams showed up. Any given tour, the crew might set up as many as five claims. All driven by corporations trying to score big money, of course," Jacob scoffed.
"To answer your specific questions, Commander," he concluded, "that's what the Gernsback was supposed to do here on Aeia before it disappeared. Typical research and grab operation, dropping off about 30 members of the crew planetside to begin assessing commercial worth. The ship carried the materials necessary to construct small, semi-permanent settlements, with enough provisions and medical supplies to support a full crew while in space and leave any settlements well-stocked. But when they went off grid with no distress call, the corporate owners decided Aeia was too remote to investigate."
Thane's disgusted rumble was clearly audible, and Shepard agreed with his judgment, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "So the owners were sons-of-bitches, though that's not really surprising. But it's significant that part of the crew was trained to handle an unexplored environment and make it livable, at least short-term. With luck, any survivors had access to that expertise and to the cargo meant for the claim sites. If anyone could be well-prepared for a shipwreck, these folks were it."
"Yes, ma'am," Jacob replied. "That's the hope, anyway. But they also had access to communications equipment, from the settlement supplies and from the ship itself. If those are survivors down there, why aren't we picking up comm signals? Why aren't they responding to Joker's hails? Part of me thinks we're more likely to find slavers or scavengers than Gernsback crew."
"You might be right, and it's smart to expect possible hostiles," she commented. "We'll find out what's what soon enough. Double check your gear—we'll be groundside in about 10 minutes."
Once the team stepped off the shuttle, they couldn't miss the remains of the huge vessel, about two hundred meters from the landing zone. At that distance, a large portion of the ship appeared intact, though sitting at a steep angle in the shallows near shore. Shepard stared at the wreckage, a frisson of unease jangling her nerve endings. She pushed it aside with a deep breath, moving away from the shuttle into a small clearing.
"Hard to tell from here," Jacob said, "but a good number might have walked away from that, if they had time to get to stations and secure themselves. Maybe enough to fit the population estimate EDI gave us."
"If there are 35 to 50 people here, none are nearby," Thane replied. "My scans show no threats in the immediate area, Shepard. We are clear for now."
"Thanks, Thane. The wreck is the obvious place to start. Let's head out."
As they walked toward the freighter, she took in the local environment. Aside from the crash debris, the shoreline looked like a nice vacation spot.
Thane seemed to be thinking along similar lines. "This climate is ideal for many sentient species. The plant life looks tropical, indicating limited seasonal variations in temperature. I wouldn't be surprised if Terminus pirates have claimed this planet."
She sent him a mischievous grin. "Pirates, huh? 'Scaling rough and rugged passes, Climb the hardy little lasses, 'Til the bright sea-shore they gain!'"
"You've been eavesdropping on Mordin's humming," Thane smirked. "Gilbert and Sullivan, from The Pirates of Penzance."
"Vakarian warned me about you two and this weird game," Jacob huffed from a few steps ahead. "But you're right, this place is a paradise, or seems like it. There are certainly worse places to fall out of the sky."
Shepard stopped short, like she'd been hit. Дыши, Морган, she exhorted. Вы можете дышать. Thane glanced back, brow ridge lifted in inquiry, catching her frozen and gasping. His eyes sought hers and suddenly she was in life support, suspended in that crystal-clear moment when he threw back his head and really laughed. She grabbed the memory and held tight, until her heartrate and nerves began to settle. Okay, Morgan. You can breathe. No problem.
"Lots of worse places, like Xawin," Jacob continued, unaware Shepard lagged a little behind. "Or any ice planet. I don't like the cold."
"Rakhana," Thane intoned, watching as she made herself start moving. "It is almost entirely a wasteland now."
Shit. Suck it up, Sunshine—you've already given Thane enough to worry about. Jogging a couple of steps to catch up, she bumped him with her armored shoulder, the way she did with Garrus. She added a nod and smile, hoping to convince him everything was fine. He rewarded her effort with a small smile in return. Good. Time to lighten the mood. "Interesting candidates, you two. But the grand prize for most horrible shipwreck location has to go to…drumroll please… ."
Jacob and Thane both looked to her and said "Tuchanka" simultaneously. Thane's smile grew a bit broader and Jacob grinned.
"Yes, Tuchanka wins that contest," she laughed. "Just don't tell Wrex I said that when we visit."
As they drew closer, the damage to the freighter was more obvious and extensive. The lowest levels were crushed by impact and by the sheer weight of a ship never designed for a gravity environment. The most forward compartments, including flight and navigation control, were simply gone—sheared away, and not by the crash.
Fuck. Major hull breach in space. Probably some kind of collision or explosion as they approached the planet. Such severe damage to the bridge meant casualties among the officers. No way around it. She figured Jacob and Thane must realize it, too, but no one said the words out loud.
Jacob poked at some equipment that had been dragged off the wreck and left on the beach, near an improvised gangway. "Well, at least some of the crew survived the crash," he ventured. "They set up that access ramp and began stripping the ship. This is valuable stuff, though. Broken down and repurposed, it could have supported power generation, lighting, and who knows what else. Even if they didn't need it right away, it shouldn't be sitting out like this, unprotected and rusting in the sea spray."
Shepard surveyed the tech strewn around them, eyes squinting in thought as she mentally catalogued. "Yeah, you're right. Lots of usable material. Looks like they started to sort it into piles, maybe for transport, but then abandoned it. Like the survivors knew what they should do after the crash but then just…stopped." Which is really, really odd. "But no one else has salvaged it, either, which probably means no scavengers or pirates."
Thane looked up from his omnitool. "I believe you are correct—I see nothing that suggests such opportunists have been here. The beacon is close by. Not aboard the ship, but likely on the other side of the wreckage. I recommend accessing it before proceeding. It might provide some explanations."
"Agreed. Lead the way."
A humanoid projection came into view as soon as they rounded the hull. Wow, male VI, like the one on Feros—don't see those older models much anymore. Avina's latest version is far more popular. At least the proximity trigger works—it's launching 'meet and greet' mode.
"Toxicology alert. Danger of rapid neural decay. Local flora chemically incompatible with human physiology." Well, hello to you, too. How nice to introduce yourself with bad news.
"This tech is corroding, Shepard," Jacob described as he circled the beacon, "and nearly overgrown by jungle creep. Looks like they set it up years ago. Why wait to signal?"
"Let's see what it says before we speculate," she advised. Thane stayed with her as she took the VI through all available prompts and Jacob further explored the beach. As they scrolled through the various reports, her instincts began whispering. Thane caught her eye and shared a troubled glance. He feels it, too. This op is not going to be a simple search and rescue.
Setting up and programming the beacon had taken the survivors an unbelievable 358 days. What the fuck? she wondered. Pyjaks could have done it faster. And it got weirder. For some reason, the finished beacon had been deliberately paused and kept from completing its protocol for more than eight and a half years. Authorization for the pause—and the eventual remote command for resumption—appeared to come from Acting Captain Ronald Taylor. He was also responsible for deletions from the official records that might have explained the interruption.
"That's not right, Shepard," Jacob denied, rejoining them at the beacon. "My father was first officer, not the captain."
"According to this info, Captain Fairchild didn't survive the crash," she explained. "Your father was promoted under emergency procedures. That, some crash data, the disruption of the beacon's protocol, and the toxicology alert are the only topics programmed here."
She began pacing slowly, thinking out loud. "I don't get it. It took them nearly a year to get this beacon set up. Why so long? And after that much time, why doesn't the VI's info include a settlement location or a comm channel for a local network? Or a complete listing of the dead and the survivors? Plus, all the entries we do have were made near the end of that first year. Why wasn't the info ever updated during the 8-year pause or before the signal was finally sent?"
"Good questions," Jacob acknowledged. "We need to find those answers. How much does the VI say about the toxic plants?"
"Enough that I really hope the survivors were able to retrieve the rations meant for the claim sites." She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut as she described the findings. "Eating the local plant life, no matter what decontamination or preparation you try, causes long-term memory loss within a month. At that point, add in interference with cognitive functions—problem solving, reading, writing, computations, logic, higher-level reasoning. And the effect snowballs—the longer you eat it, the worse it gets. At least, that's what the preliminary data here suggests. For some reason, the survivors stopped researching the problem." Hell. What shape are these folks going to be in after ten years?
"Whether they've avoided that downward spiral depends on the math, I guess. How much salvaged food divided by how many survivors," Jacob conjectured.
"The provisions lasting a full decade seems unlikely," Thane offered. "The survivors must have worried about shortages early on. A cautious approach would have mandated extensive analysis prior to ingestion to ensure compatibility. That they chose not to wait indicates urgency—or desperation. And the information on long-term damage is significant. It implies at least some crew continued to eat the local plants after the decay was first noted. If rations had been plentiful, they would have switched back to them."
Jacob looked like he wanted to argue, but Shepard nodded in agreement, glad to have Thane along. "The incomplete data collection on continued ingestion is troubling," he continued. "If provisions were indeed short, then abandoning that research was irresponsible. Continued work might have uncovered a solution…or at least the hope of possible reversal."
Not just troubling—stopping that research is all kinds of wrong. I don't like where this is heading. We need some physical evidence and concrete facts, fast—not hunches and conjecture. And I need to work off this creepy, itchy feeling between my shoulder blades. "Maybe we'll find some answers on the ship itself. Official reports, medical data, personal logs…if the equipment retains any power, that is."
Thane checked his omnitool. "I'm picking up a life sign approaching the beach, still at a safe distance at the moment. Scans of the ship are clear, and the structure appears stable. Both options are worth investigating. Your choice, Shepard?"
She nodded toward the gangway. "Let's check the ship first, but keep an eye on your readings, Thane. We don't want to be surprised by visitors, even if they're friendly." And I really hope they're friendly. Please, pain-in-the-ass intuition—be completely wrong this time.
Once inside, crash damage restricted exploration by blocking movement between sections. She hoped the others failed to notice her silent relief when they gave up on accessing the remains of the bridge; she didn't need more reminders of the SR-1's destruction. In the limited search area open to them, they found only two malfunctioning terminals and a pair of datapads. Not much to go on, but the fragments still gave her an unexpected punch to the gut. Both Thane and Jacob wore closed-off expressions as they headed back outside, and she suspected the info was hitting them the same way.
"That was…unpleasant," she admitted, trying to hold on to her temper. "We have a few things here that don't make sense. Thoughts? Thane?"
"Based on the state of the interior, most supplies in the cargo holds were likely irretrievable—or required considerable effort," he suggested. "But that doesn't fully account for the delay in rendering the beacon operational. Even if the survivors' only resources came from the abandoned tech around us, repairs and programming should have been completed within weeks, not months. Certainly not a full year. Why wasn't the beacon a higher priority?"
"Must have been the neural decay," Jacob offered. "If everyone started having significant problems within a month, then… . Wait, that doesn't track."
"No, it doesn't," she agreed. "If every survivor ate the local plants from the beginning, the beacon programming would never have been finished. Someone remained unaffected for at least a year."
Her voice took on a harder tone as she battled her rising anger. "Going by the logs inside, a few male officers avoided the neural decay. The first entry indicated guilt and regret over how the neurally-compromised crew were being abused. He mentioned talking to 'the others' to try and stop it.
"The second datapad… ." She took a breath and clenched her fists, trying to focus on reason and logic. "That officer apparently enjoyed abusing women. He was glad the decay made his victims vulnerable, less able to defend themselves. So at least these two men and some unidentified 'others' had access to the ship's food stores for some unknown time after the crash."
"The doctor's entry is puzzling," Thane noted. "She was clearly suffering memory loss from the local flora. If enough rations were available for some officers to avoid the neural complications, why was the doctor—also an officer—consuming toxic plants? Who would allow the ship's physician to become incapacitated? Such a decision serves no one."
"I don't know who," she snapped, pacing back and forth, "but why is a damn easy guess."
"What? That was just one officer, Shepard," Jacob retorted. "And we don't know who his victim was—or if he mistreated more than that one woman. We don't have enough evidence to go where you're jumping."
She shot an irate glance at the former marine and took a step toward him. "You might not think so. But I do. The doctor was either a target of the abuse or a threat to stop it by figuring out the decay. So they used the local food to weaken her. Deny her the ability to fight back. That's why the research on cumulative damage wasn't carried out—because they chemically lobotomized their own doctor!"
Jacob went stock-still—predator still—and his voice made her want to check for frostbite. "'They'? Sounds like you're condemning every male officer for that one damn log. You can't assume they all knew about the abuse."
She crossed her arms in defiance and narrowed her eyes. Is he really this thick? "How the hell could they miss it? Refusing rations to the doctor? That couldn't have been a secret or unilateral decision. Plus the first log mentioned bruises—BRUISES, Jacob. Pretty clear visual clue there. ALL the officers had a responsibility to recognize that mistreatment. And a fucking duty to stop it!"
But for some reason they hadn't stopped it…and she planned to find out why.
Notes:
"Дыши, Морган. Вы можете дышать" is Russian for "Breathe, Morgan. You can breathe."
