First cruise was out to Omega, more of a pickup than anything else. Find Dr. Mordin Solus at his Clinic. She had Russ and Kaidan ready to go.
Kaidan had been thrilled to re-up with the Normandy at Anderson's recommendation, effusive and glad to see her, and that had been…really nice. She had a chance at a real smile and everything. He hugged her. That was nice too and just having someone familiar was…indescribable. Invaluable.
Omega was a terrible place and she had never been there before, but did loads of research on the way. The place was lawless, run by an Asari that had seized power years ago, mercenary groups and miners mostly, a hub for lawless trade, slavery…
Walking onto the station was worth your life it seemed. She had some things she needed to get for Dr. Chakwas and the new engineering staff…Kenneth and Gabby. Some couplings and some alcohol.
First few steps into the station they were "greeted" by being told to report to Aria. That was not unexpected, she'd go there first.
Thieves and Councilors required their due.
Don't think of Garrus while you're here.
Straight down the hallway was a man who was beating a Batarian. The Batarian wasn't fighting back. He was on the floor, and Lal's teeth clenched before she consciously relaxed. Cara faded and Shepard took the stage.
Deep breath.
Remember your lines.
Show time.
Omega was going to probably be like this the entire way through, abuse and chaos. She pulled her pistol and pointed it at the man. He looked human from here. She said quietly "Let him up."
She was ignored, so she said "First request is verbal. First warning is now. My next action will be to shoot you for noncompliance. Let. Him. Up."
The man finally turned to her and said "See you found me. Commander Shepard, right? I just have a little business to handle first." He indicated the Batarian, still on the floor, cowering, hands up to fend off blows.
She narrowed her eyes and kept her gun aimed at the human. "Zaeed Massani?" One of Cerberus's recommendations. Distinct face. Mercenary. She hadn't made a final decision about him before leaving the Normandy but as of now he was disqualified as a potential squad member.
He relaxed and said with swagger, physical and verbal, that made her more certain of her choice "Yeah. Heard you need me for your little mission."
Shepard smiled and spoke to the Batarian "You can go."
Zaeed began to protest and shoved the Batarian back down when he tried to stand but Shepard clipped Zaeed on his right-sided arching shoulder guard carefully with her pistol. That 'guard' was a stupid bit of pretense intended to be intimidating. At best it would obstruct his peripheral vision. At close range his movement could be controlled by hooking some leverage through it. At worst a funneled shot through there at the right angle would blow out his throat spectacularly. It made her want to make a trick shot from the side to see if she was right. "Second warning is now. Next time you obstruct me I will shoot you somewhere that is painful." She aimed her pistol at his face.
Kaidan and Russ both had guns drawn at this point. Zaeed stared at her, cursed in frustration and then backed up a step. The Batarian scrambled away.
She informed Zaeed "We're just going to wait here a few minutes, Mr. Massani, until he has a bit of a head start."
Zaeed gritted out "What the fuck is wrong with you? That man is wanted for – "
"You mistake me for someone who would believe a word that came out of your mouth, Mr. Massani. We're going to wait here and then go our way and you will go yours."
Zaeed glared at her after he lost sight of the Batarian "I was told you NEEDED…"
She cut him off again "We've got a few minutes, so I'll explain. I am certain I do not need you. You had a prisoner you chose to not secure or restrain despite him being unarmed and you being armed and armored. If you saw Commander Shepard and hoped to do some grandstanding so she would be impressed by your brutality, that was likely just one more in a string of what I have to conclude has been a lifetime's worth of spectacular miscalculations of style over substance. For all I know you've been here kicking a man that's down for a long time for the fun of it. You kept your back turned in an open and high-traffic hallway where three heavily armed people could easily take anything they wanted from both of you. This is Omega, Mr. Massani. In the future you should be more concerned about your life and less concerned about your reputation. Maybe I am giving you too much credit and you just enjoy kicking, which is not a skill difficult to find and would only make you overpriced compared to the suitable substitutes I could pick up at a bar for the price of part of a bottle of whiskey. Even Cerberus doesn't deserve to be overcharged that much. Maybe that Batarian was a wanted criminal. Maybe someone had a grudge and enough money to pay you to remove him. All I know is he was helpless and you were abusive and this being Omega, I get to make my own law. Cerberus might still be hiring if they need an incompetent sadist with poor judgment. I am not. Take it up with them."
Zaeed stared murderous, icy double-toned eyes at her. She kept her smile and the pistol in place for a few more minutes. Nobody spoke.
She holstered her pistol and turned to go to Afterlife, Zaeed left behind standing fuming and silent.
Well, one down. That was easy.
Russ was fucking nervous and expected to be shot in the back. Of course it would be his fucking back, he made the biggest target and Shepard was in front of him, safe.
On a side note…Damn.
But if Shepard was not going to look back he'd be damned if he would. What was the point to that whole scene? They were going to be righting "wrongs" on fucking Omega? If the Batarian was on Omega at all odds were he was guilty of something. They'd never get off the damned station.
Was that someone Cerberus wanted her to work with? Was Massani the height of human competence? If he was that good should they insult him beyond what was necessary, piss him off and walk away after denying him a prize? You could have, should have just walked the fuck away, Shepard.
Russ put up a barrier because fuck that.
Shepard didn't seem to notice, but Russ was sure she did. Alenko shot him a sly smile. Alenko did not put up a barrier.
Aria was not all that helpful, Shepard having been summoned for the pleasure of being able to summon her. Lal figured that was the way of local assumed indignitaries and Robber Baronesses. They traded a few barbed pleasantries. Lal did find out where to get Serrice Ice Brandy and Dr. Solus, though she could have likely gotten that from anybody else with much less in the way of tiresome self-aggrandizement. She thanked Aria politely. She would not be fucking with Aria. She was not intrigued or impressed. She'd rendered unto the local Caesar and earned her way out and through, assuring she would not be interrupted by more lackeys because she had been prompt with her attendance.
On the way into the plague district, it was closed. The plague affected Batarians and…Turians.
She looked at Russ and said "We'll wait, go get your helmet." She could get some shopping done. She needed to find those couplings.
He shook his head and said "I'm fine."
She smiled. She turned around, walked back out of Omega to the Normandy airlock and said evenly "Spectre Orbestan, if you would please do me the honor, go get your fucking helmet."
Russ muttered his way to his quarters, grabbed his helmet and thought he was lucky she didn't shoot him.
So yeah. So…when she was soft spoken and smiling…bad things happened. Bad things that don't happen to Shepard. Check.
She didn't give him a verbal warning though.
She gave Zaeed a verbal warning.
Why didn't he get a verbal warning?
He vaguely wanted to tell himself that it was probably because he wasn't a mercenary piece of shit and should have known to follow an order, but he didn't like that answer.
This was a bit more like the Shepard he'd heard about, though. Thoughts of propping her up…seemed less likely. He still didn't like it, just in a different direction. A worse direction suddenly, cold and shadow looming as that thought eclipsed ideas of her being helpless. Now she was really bothering him, whatever bugged him about her gaining steam. It wasn't just today, it was her whole…thing.
He'd figure it out. It was not letting go anytime soon, all the hinky twist pointing toward something he did not like, and it wasn't that she was helpless anymore. Maybe it never had been.
While they were waiting, Lal decided to stand at the airlock where they had dropped him off, and she'd do the shopping afterward. Russ would have the chance to figure out that he'd delayed her twice, as though he weren't clever enough to find them on his own unless she waited for him and led him along. He had to figure out that he had to listen the first time. She worked on split-second tactical tolerances, she could not afford to lecture or explain. That just invited people to feel entitled to more lectures and explanations. People would die. Do it or you die, Russ. Do it or I die and so does Kaidan, because we have to be a team and I am the leader of that team. Do it…and maybe you die anyway. I can't explain to you how my brain works ahead of time, you just have to go with it. I am a faith-based initiative. This is a boot camp concept, but at a higher level and you have to jump when I say jump. I might ask you to jump into fire and you might hesitate, and I can't promise you I'm not asking you to jump into fire to survive. Just ask Ashley Williams.
C'mon Russ, if you're really the best there is, you get this. I'm just not sure you can believe it of me.
Kaidan asked with amusement "Is he going to have a bad day?"
Kaidan had been with her from the beginning of her Spectre career and had seen a lot of bad days. Some of them had been hers and some of them had been her imposing a bad day on other people. Her Shepard face cracked and she smiled at him "Depends on whether or not he figures out how to listen." She added sympathetically "It's got to be rough. He's used to giving the orders."
"So am I, ma'am. You gonna cut me any slack?"
"You, Alenko? Not you. Slackless all the way."
"You made it possible to learn the easy way or the hard way, but I did learn."
"If I recall correctly your moment of truth…"
"Please. Don't remind me. You died. So there."
"Got me there, Alenko."
"Worse ways to learn than fetching a helmet."
By the time Russ made it back, Alenko was smiling, almost laughing. Shepard's face was smooth and cold as smug, smiling glass. Russ had muttered his way back up to the airlock, wearing the helmet. She thanked him politely. He turned off his speaker and just kept on muttering where they couldn't hear him. Fine. He'd make the helmet officially a good idea.
She then went shopping, and a further sense of 'fuck you specifically, Shepard' permeated his muttering. Russ felt about fifteen years old at formation inspection with the seals on his boots undone. The humans were laughing at him and he was getting really fucking tired of her smile.
They headed back down into the sickened labyrinth of Omega, the air filled with the stench of burning bodies and fear. Now the helmet was a really good idea.
Russ saw where her smile ended, and where a lot of people died. There were merc groups in fortified positions and he did learn, fast, to take her advice on positioning.
Orders, Russ. They're orders.
And she was fucking good at it. He had to concede that. It still…was not making him feel better.
He expected her to tactically withdraw and come back later with a heavier team because this was no longer a walk through Omega and a pickup. It was a war zone and he would much rather have his team with him. He bit his tongue twice wanting to suggest it.
Would she shoot him just for saying it?
Seemed likely.
A quiet 'hold' from her during one particularly tense section of a fight made him really, really want to argue, watching two Krogan and a Vorcha with a flamethrower advance on Alenko who was backed down into cover at an angle that made it difficult for them to assist, with the enemy advancing behind a partition they could not penetrate.
Russ was not much for praying but could not do much else.
We're fucking dead. She's crazy and we're dead. At least Alenko is dead.
Then he saw that she took careful aim from cover once circumstances aligned and blew out the tanks on the pyro's back, leaving scattered Vorcha body parts on fire and the Krogan with their shields down, easy to finish after her quiet 'go' in a crater of shrapnel and spectacular gouts of flame. She'd waited until they were in range of each other, using Alenko as bait until she could take them all out with one shot of her tiny pistol in her tiny hands.
She cleared the area and asked casually "You all right there, Alenko?"
He shrugged "A little singed."
"Your hair's fine."
"Well, that's what's important."
They hadn't even managed to eat through his shields.
They reached Mordin and Russ thought he was going to develop a headache from technobabble. Shepard looked as delighted by his ongoing monologue as a varren with a…recently flaming part of an ex-Vorcha. It was an unfortunate image he had seen just before they had gotten here.
Suddenly, no air. They should evacuate. Now.
He couldn't help it, he said it. "We should evacuate."
She turned and looked at him, did not shoot him, did not smile. "And what happens then?"
It seemed obvious so he repeated a little louder "We evacuate them." He meant 'We evacuate the able bodied, but I can't say that in front of those who are not able bodied…' His tone implied for once that she was the one that was dense. It felt good.
Her expression did not change and she said quietly, urgently "Look around you, Spectre Orbestan. What are the odds that the few people in this district that are still able bodied will help those who are not when everyone is out of air soon? We try to evacuate now and the entire way out is filled with panicked civilians trying to avoid contact with everybody they see, because Vorchas and humans are suspected to be the carriers, Turians and Batarians are assumed to be sick. Suspicions are high as well as panic. They would be trying to avoid falling into piles of burning bodies, likely picking up the multitude of abandoned weapons and using them. Panicked evacuation is what the Collectors want to happen. It would be the best way to spread the plague after the requisite incubation period. It would result in a mob that would drive forward on panic and fear, obliterate quarantine checkpoints all at once and spill out into the rest of the station. This is a Collector plan, not a bright idea from a Vorcha with a chemistry set. We'd all die in the primed and pressured kill zone and more importantly, the cure would be lost. What happens when this…illegal shipping hub…with the perfect disastrous combination of transportation fluidity and panic lets people leave this unregulated station, dispersing the plague everywhere, particularly the Citadel and Palaven? What happens if surviving Turians and Batarians are convinced that it was a human plot?"
Mordin said "Shrewd analysis. Probability 84%. Excellent vector delivery plan following inherent racial suspicions and maximum fatality from low investment of effort."
Russ's jaw jutted and he definitely did not think of Garrus being ill, piled into a heap of burning Turian bodies like the ones they'd passed…for long. Even if that was all shit he hadn't thought about, she didn't know the answers any more than he did. That bullshit sounded convincing but it was a guess and she was bluffing. Mordin was a wonk hiding in here, couldn't get it done himself so he'd back her up so she would go his way. She was just a good fucking storyteller and that was one hop over from manipulative liar.
That's what you've done, isn't it? To everyone. Just lie on top of lie on top of lie…and Garrus is in love with an illusion, smoke and mirrors. That felt right. That felt really right and he finally had something solid on her. He knew it. His spine straightened to his full height and his voice filled with certainty. He was starting to get the hang of Shepard territory. He really wanted to say 'You realize only one of us hasn't died yet, right?' with contempt, but instead he informed her "This is a high casualty scenario." It sounded like what he wanted to say in tone - 'What are the odds, you fucking lunatic, that we get out of here alive at all?'
She turned and started to walk away toward the ventilation system, in theory not giving a damn if he followed or not. She was clearly done trying to convince him. Her way or out. She said "They all are by the time I get to them. Get used to it. It's up to us to make it as low casualty as possible. We go in now."
Fuck.
He was starting to think that when she said "Spectre Orbestan" she meant 'stupid and cowardly.' He also didn't want her calling him Russ. He did not want to be familiar. He put his head down, shut the fuck up, bit his tongue, and expected to die. He followed her out, which of course she knew he'd do. He wasn't tossing his reputation and career, he'd rather die.
He also was not going to explain that to Garrus. Ever.
He was a little resentful when he didn't die. Yeah, that was spiteful. That was his mood. He'd earned it. He was more than a little jealous when she seemed to be able to manage rocket launchers at range with no problem, more so when she directed him to use his biotics from angles, combinations and distances he hadn't considered. Russ was out of his element here, much more accustomed to overwhelming force and melee, now asked to keep his head down and chip away steadily instead of sledgehammering. He'd never wanted to sledgehammer more. Particularly a mouthy human. She directed him toward timing the detonation of available ordnance in the environment, degrading cover and setting traps and distractions, a third of the time not a living target at all.
It was…anti-Turian. He came straight up against his prejudices. Maybe he was racist. Maybe he really mistrusted women. He thought of women he trusted…but he told most of them what to do. All of them were reasonable. Okay, maybe Teryil wasn't exactly reasonable, but he'd take one of her over five Shepards. He thought of his team and decided he was not going to recommend any of them for this meat grinder. If they got out. He trusted Liara. No, it had nothing to do with women or trust or human. Yeah, he didn't work with many humans but he liked Anderson. He liked Alenko. It was just Shepard.
He'd felt pretty good about himself thinking that because he could overwhelm her like a child at close range, that meant he was superior in all categories. He had resented the implication that he had to protect her due to her fragility, and now when she was fucking scary he felt invalidated.
Was he really that guy? Might equals right?
He almost smiled at the thought of him being the champion of Turian aesthetics.
He eventually got to where he could not think about it because the fighting took all his concentration, busy countering all his instincts toward command and quietly taking her direction, which made no sense until it did. It all came too fast, just a constant stream of what the fuck are you up to and then…oh.
How the hell did she…think…that fast?
It seemed life with Shepard was about faith.
He really did not want to find religion at this point in his life. More manipulative lies.
Effective…manipulative lies.
He remembered it was for Garrus, buckled down, accepted that he was 15 again and got the job done.
It sucked.
Yeah, they won…
He'd start to maybe try to admire her, and then he'd see the image of a woman with her head down on a table, Garrus covering up his marks apologetically, and he'd be furious again with a layer of shame.
That moment had to have been an act. There's no way this cold-eyed bitch showed weakness without something to be gained. What she'd gained was Garrus overprotectively clucking over her, giving his life and being wrapped around her delicate, twisted finger.
She'd tried to protect Garrus when she thought Russ was going to ambush him and think it was funny…
No, she just wanted to get him alone. Councilor Vakarian, the prize. Alone.
I have GOT to get over this.
You've tried for years. You think a few dead Vorcha and a story about engineered plague and chain-reaction war is going to change that?
Shut the fuck up.
He had a headache the likes of which he had not seen in years, but was not going to the Med Bay to get anything for it. He just had to fucking deal.
oOoOoOoOoOo
Lal got back to the Normandy, excited to go speak to Dr. Solus, who let her ask lots of questions. She was thrilled to wind him up and watch him go. He was…like her…someone like her. Openly like her. She felt like the fraud she was, jealous of seeing him function the way she would love to.
She would have loved to spend her time puttering in a lab. She should have done that with her life.
She imagined big beautiful columns of data and emerging patterns like myths rising from molten lava or the sea, cresting glorious phoenixes and fluked tails of whales of discoveries, all hers…and tried not to sigh heavily. She'd love to spend all day here and had trouble tearing herself away. When even Mordin seemed to tire of talking, she retired semi-intellectually reluctantly, but physically grateful.
Back to the complicated grind.
She sat down beside her bed on the floor and pulled a corner of the blanket into her lap and spoke to them. The blanket had no gender.
"Well, Top…that's short for topographical entity…Spectre Hemorus Orbestan does not like me. I don't blame him. He's really good. I like him. Garrus was right and I'm lucky to have him and his biotics are…amazing…I think Kaidan's jealous…I think I'm jealous. Okay…I'll admit it, you're right. I am definitely jealous. I would love to play with them. His biotics. Don't be fresh. Can you imagine? Blue fire everywhere. They're beautiful. He's beautiful. He can take out whole groups. But he does not like me and…can I confide something in you? That makes me sad. It makes Shepard pretend to be angry, but it mostly makes me sad. I would really like it if he liked me…but I can't do anything about that. He wouldn't respect me. He's already about to pitch a mutiny and the only reason why he won't is because Garrus wouldn't like it."
She whispered "Thought he was going to kill me. I was trying not to look at that spot on his neck…you know that spot…with the nerve cluster…? Well, you're a blanket, you probably don't. That's where I'd have to aim. Nonlethal but game over. I had him put a helmet on too, so that would make that nerve cluster …well…yeah. I'd have been able to count on Kaidan, at least. He was ready. Russ is scary, Top. I shouldn't call him Russ anymore. Orbestan. Glad he's maybe on my side if I can manage…maybe I can't take him out with me often. That makes me sad too. I really…I really like him. I've read his record, you know. Yes, yes I have. I should have asked him but I didn't want to intrude. Okay…yeah. He intimidates me. I wouldn't dare ask him questions. Especially now. I should be following him. I should have insisted. Now it's too late. Advocate for biotic rights. Nobody knows why he's barefaced. I bet Garrus knows and I can't ask. I want to ask. I won't. He's saved…so many people. And guess what? He didn't die doing it. No, I'm not being modest, it's just true. No death is better than death."
"Russ is going to be like Wrex, isn't he? He needs an Alpha but he doesn't like the Alpha because he wants to be the Alpha but he can't, so we go around and around and around and in between we shoot things."
"Don't tell anybody, Top, but I miss Garrus so much I could cry. I think I'm going to and I apologize in advance if you're allergic to salt. I'll never know. Do you want another blanket for company? I should get one. How about a nice teal? Teal sounds friendly. Good company. Not too chatty, like me. Serene. Anyway…Garrus keeps sending me messages. I asked him not to so they won't be intercepted, but I think he really decides when I am his law and when he is his law. The further I am away, the less law I represent. His messages are breaking my heart and I can't answer. I'm stupid in love with him and he knows it. He wants me to come back soon. He wants me. He needs me and I'm out here letting potential Batarian criminals run away because…because I'm me. And now I need him…and I can't…"
Her shoulders fell and she did start to cry "So many bodies, Top. Bodies on fire. The smell…I never told you about the Thorian…I probably will, I talk a lot. I hope we can be friends. I really want a friend."
She pulled Top onto the floor, bunched up a pillow shape in her arms and tugged the rest of the length over her the best she could.
She missed her head in his lap, his voice drifting down to her, his hand in her hair. She didn't want to get in bed. It seemed…so lonely. Not the couch either, it would remind her of…
She reached down and hit play on his latest message.
"Cara. Please answer me. You are aware the Normandy has stealth technology and I don't know if you're alive or dead on any given day unless you tell me? I told you that you do not have to worry, I promise Councilors have good encryption."
She paused and looked at his face and traced the marks on his crest with a fingertip and said "Garrus, they do until they don't…don't you remember a big pile of stuff people thought was encrypted falling into your lap like it fell off a hacking truck?"
She hit play and closed her eyes for the best part "I miss you. I miss you every moment. You have to come back. You have to come back soon. Don't forget about me. Don't die. Don't be sad. Come home to me."
She was so glad he'd sent it and he should never do it again and she was terrified that fifteen want-to-be Shadow Brokers were watching the message and considering releasing it to Westerlund News. Or just waiting until they had a full pile of things like that and then using it against him. Oh, what if they were already doing that…Garrus would give in. She wouldn't know and it would be because she couldn't be his law…and he'd protect her and not himself.
Oh no.
"Well, now you know I'm alive today. I know you can probably turn on any channel and find that out…but I am hoping to make you feel guilty. Feel guilty, Cara. I'm thinking of you I want to hear your voice. I need…to hear your voice."
"Garrus. You have to stop. I love you. I am so…afraid."
It was kind of like talking to him. It was awful.
She cried herself to sleep.
