Hello everyone! It has been quite a while since I've updated this story. I'm afraid it's been a very up-and-down ride for me. Many thanks to Sidnika for reminding me of this story and getting me back into it. I can't promise anything, but I'll do my best to keep working on it. I have bits and pieces written out, and I have a fair bit planned out. Reviews really encourage me to keep going on it, and I say that seriously. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope to return to this story a lot more regularly in the future.

Chapter 14: Taking Control

Joker wasn't sure what to make of Commander Shepard's appearance on the Normandy the next morning after she'd crashed on Counselor Anderson's couch for the night. Man, how many people in the galaxy think to themselves, "Hey, I want to go crash at a friends house, why don't I try the Counselor and see if he's got an open couch?" He brushed away the thought and focused again on Shepard's face. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, like she'd been crying (is that even possible?) but she seemed more relaxed, more . . . calm, than before.

"Alright Joker, let's get out of here before some dock worker thinks to check what those gigantic Cerberus logos plastered all over the side of my ship mean and get us all arrested."

"Aye aye ma'am. Running for the hills."

She raised an eyebrow at him but let it slide before turning to walk back through the CIC. What was she thinking now? Another mystery. He busied himself pulling out of the private dock and got an immediate clearance for departure. Not for the first time he wondered how much money the Illusive Man had spread around to make sure nobody seized the ship or set C-Sec on them. It wasn't like they'd been hiding on the Citadel or anything.

"Mr. Moreau, Commander Shepard did not specify a course."

"Nope, but she didn't have to. We're clearing out of Counsel space for a while, so that means back to the Terminus Systems. Shepard will let us know where once we get closer."

But don't take too long, Shepard. I hope whatever you did on the Citadel helped, because we need some guidance here.

…

The QEC scanner buzzed to life, connecting the Normandy to the Illusive Man's base half a galaxy away through technology Shepard could never hope to truly understand. It was enough that the entangled particles did their vibrating thing and made the Illusive Man appear an arms-length away.

"Shepard, this is an unexpected call. Did you enjoy your little visit on the Citadel?" The Illusive Man sipped his drink casually before giving her a wan smile.

"You brought me on to do a mission. I want to talk about that, and only that."

TIM, as Shepard and pretty much everyone else had started thinking of him, frowned at her. "My time is valuable Shepard. What did you need to know that Miranda couldn't tell you?"

Shepard crossed her arms in front of her. "For starters, what the hell is our plan?"

"I told you Shepard, and I sent you a list of dossiers to-"

"You brought me back because I know what I'm doing. It's a waste of your investment to cut me out and leave me in the dark. Now stop treating me like an idiot and talk. You gave me dossiers to make a team. A team designed to do what? How in hell is a turian sniper or a psychotic biotic supposed to help me take down a Collector Cruiser? The scientist I can understand, but the rest?"

Shepard was keeping her temper under control, trying to keep her cool. It was only kind of working. Still, something must have gotten through to TIM because he paused for a moment before replying, and it wasn't just to blow her off.

"Alright, Shepard, you've made your point. We added each name to the list for a specific purpose. Think about what we know about the Collectors. They have a cruiser that we need to destroy. While we didn't know Archangel's identity, we guessed that anyone with the kind of training that surviving Omega with that many enemies required would have high level access to the turian hierarchy, hopefully enough to tap us into their research into Sovereign's main gun."

"Wait, the turians have Sovereign's main gun?"

TIM nodded. "They didn't get it intact, of course, but we know they've been working on recreating it on a much smaller scale. As for the others, it should be clear. The scientist is to find a way to deal with the seeker swarms. The Collectors aren't killing the colonists, they're abducting them, which means that they're being held at some sort of base, which is why we need an expert at breaking and entering. Speaking of which, she's sent word that she's on board already."

"What? Who? How?"

TIM waived aside her questions. "Ask her yourself. The biotic is a backup plan. If the salarian can't find a countermeasure to the swarms, then a powerful biotic may be able to shield your team from them. Warlord Okeer has had direct contact with the collectors and can provide a first-hand account of their activities, and possibly a sample of working Collector technology. That each of them is a capable operator in their own right gives us a good chance at getting information from the Collectors directly the next time they hit a colony. Now, Commander, are you satisfied?"

Shepard wanted to reply with something snarky, but TIM had actually answered her question. And while he was a complete deuchebag, he was also one of the most well-connected deuchebags in the galaxy. If he could be useful, she wouldn't throw it all away over something stupid. At least, not until she could find someone to replace him.

Shepard nodded and the Illusive Man cut the connection, leaving Shepard standing alone in the dark.

…

"Edi, do you have any record of outbound transmissions?"

The wall-mounted display in Shepard's quarters pulsed red momentarily. "A block is preventing me from answering that question."

Shepard leaned forward, hands flat against the top of her desk, head lowered in frustration. "Edi, do you have any record of anyone breaking into the ship?"

"Negative, Commander Shepard."

"Edi, you have cameras everywhere in the ship. How can you not know where they are?"

"Unknown. However, the port-side observation deck passive observation systems are currently off-line for scheduled maintenance."

Shepard raised her head. "Maintenance? How long is it scheduled for?"

"Unknown."

"Clarify."

"The duty log does not list an estimated completion time. It merely says 'ongoing.'"

Well, that answered that question. Whoever they were, they were good enough to submit a false maintenance report without Edi noticing and then disable whatever spying systems Edi had in there. Whoever it was, she was good. Very good.

A few moments later and Shepard stepped off the elevator and started walking towards the observation deck. There wasn't a plan, not really. She was just moving.

The door slid aside as she stepped inside then shut behind her, sealing her in on the quiet deck. No super spies were immediately evident. Shepard resisted the temptation to search the room; if this 'infiltration specialist' could hide from Edi, well, she wasn't going to find her by looking behind the bar or between the cushions. No, this required a different tactic.

She hit the round kong at the base of the viewports and settled comfortably on the couch as the protective shield raised to display a stunning vista of stars red and blue shifting wildly while sliding past as the Normandy cruised along at FTL, aimed at the still-distant Eagle Nebula relay. She let her mind drift, vaguely focused on the infiltrator.

What was she playing at? If she was supposed to be recruited, or employed, or whatever, why hide? It was unprofessional, almost . . . silly. Yes, there was definitely an element of childishness. And what about all of this business with the cameras? Was it a feint to throw her off, get her moving in the wrong direction? No, that didn't feel right. It was too aggressive, too in-your-face for someone that lived in the shadows.

It was a game.

Yes, that was it, a game. You couldn't hide forever on a ship if they knew to look for you, so whoever she was wasn't even trying - she'd hung out a flag saying here I am, come find me.

Hm, I think it's been long enough for her to let her guard down.

"You can come out now."

There! The slightest indrawn breath, the faintest rustle of fabric on the silent deck. Shepard's eyes darted left and stared into empty space.

"Alright Shepard, you caught me."

The air shimmered and a smallish woman fizzled into reality next to Shepard on the couch. She wore a close-fitted black jumpsuit with gray accents. A detachable black hood lowered to nearly her eyes, leaving her face in shadow, while a balaclava hung around her neck. Of ocurse, if that outfit really could cloak for the nearly ten minutes she'd been sitting here its as light years ahead of the best cloaking technology she'd seen N7 Infiltrators experimenting with. She would be one to keep an eye on.

…

Yep, Shep was definitely one cool customer. Kasumi Goto watched her carefully out of the corner of her eye as they both stared out into space. Not even a twitch at her appearing out of tin air with technology she was pretty confident nobody in the Alliance had ever heard of. Given the woman's reputation for violence she'd been half afraid to find a knuckle-dragger, bt this . . . she had a brain and was comfortable with silence. She had potential.

"So, what's this job you're doing? Sounds interesting."

…

Shepard watched her closely from the corner of her eye, gauging the smaller woman's reactions. She was good. Incredibly good. There was no way she didn't know exactly what was going on here. Another game? No, there had been a harder undertone . . . a test.

Interesting. But sometimes tests worked two ways.

…

"Suicide mission. Go somewhere nobody's ever been, fight some people nobody's ever seen, and rescue some people that disappeared without a trace. You in?"

Kasumi hesitated a half-beat, taken off-guard by the suddenly blunt attitude. She stalled. "Your boss is paying a lot of money to make me interested."

…

Shepard raised an eyebrow and glanced over at the woman. Japanese? Regardless, even taken off-guard she'd deflected the question while probing for more information. It reminded her of a particularly illusive pain-in-the-ass. "He's not my boss, and with your skills money isn't an issue. Why risk it all for this mission? What are you getting out of this?"

The master thief turned to look Shepard in the eyes. "You're not one for beating around the bush, are you? Yes, I am getting something out of this, a promise from your Illusive Man."

Shepar was instantly on guard. Loose promises were bits of yourself in someone else's hands. "What promise?"

"Oh you know, nothing too difficult. I just need a friend to come with me to a house-warming party."

Just like that the serious was gone and the game was back in her voice. Well, there were some lines you couldn't bully her into crossing. Good to know.

"Well, do you need us to stop anywhere to pick up a gift?"

The woman smile, emphasizing for a moment the purple mark down the middle of her lower lip and just beyond. Lipstick? Tattoo? "No need. I had your guards load it for me. They were very helpful. IT's down in the shuttle bay in some boxes marked as delicate spare circuits. Though I could use some help bringing it up here."

Shepard shook her head and sighed. "Fine, fine. Tell them I okayed it. And welcome to the team."

"It's nice to meet you." The thief offered a gloved hand, which Shepard took. "Kasumi Goto, at your service."