Deus Ex Human Revolution is the property of Eidos/Square Enix

Mass Effect is the property of Bioware and Electronic Arts

Mass Effect: Human Revolution

Chapter 22: The Masque of the Black Queen Part III

~[h+]~

Early Author's Casting Notes:

Fawkes "Spooky" Moody is voiced by David Duchovny

Manuel "Lunchbox" Melligen is voiced by Matthew Lillard

The Black Queen is voiced by Marina Sirtis and Mary-Elizabeth McGlynn

~[h+]~

Inside the Spookies' mobile HQ, a semi-trailer truck modified for some extensive electronic spy work, the Deep Eyes (sans Jane) sat in the somewhat cozy interior, cup ramen in hand. Mounted on the semi-trailer's walls were a multitude of flat displays, configured haphazardly, interconnected by a spiderweb of wires. Computer boxes were mounted on racks, powered by a two gallon OVO can. The floor space had a few desks with various pieces of electronics and tools strewn about on them. On the left wall was a whiteboard with mugshots on it, detailing some kind of relationship map between various pillars of the community (including the Templars), and at the center of that web was the word BLACK QUEEN written in marker.

Grey, who had been waiting impatiently for Jane and Jensen to report back, desperately needed something to distract himself besides nursing a cup of instant ramen, and approached the leader of the Spookies, a travelling group of hackers. They had apparently lost most of their members to Templar oppression, and right now the group was really just a pair: Fawkes 'Spooky' Moody and Manuel "Lunchbox" Melligen.

Moody sat at his desk, typing and moving a haptic interface around. He was a white dark-haired male in his early forties dressed in a sand-colored business suit with a loose black tie. He noticed Grey approaching and nodded at him.

"Mister Wolf," greeted Moody using Grey's callsign. "Something I can do for ya? You look like you got some questions on your mind."

"I've been hearing a lot about this Black Queen around here..."

"And you're wondering who or what she is?"

"I'm more interested in how she took control of Caleston."

"The who: Matriarch Benezia T'soni. The what: Some Asari bigwig that's Saren's second in command. As for the how, well, we've been scratching our heads as to the how for quite some time now, but thanks to your sneaky friend planting those bugs in the comm relay, we've had a free run of the Templars' email correspondence for a while, and Lunchbox has a theory. Lunch? You wanna stop eating that fake steak and explain it to the man?"

Manuel Melligen, a lean, young filipino with the sides of his head shaved bald save for a fountain of dreadlocks that sprang from its top, was eating and typing at the same time at his own desk, apparently doing his best to ignore Grey. Moody was having none of it, and threw an empty can of soda at Manuel's head.

"Ow!"

"Lunch, it's your theory, you fucking explain it!"

"Hey, I don't have to tell anything to a bunch of fascist pigs!"

"Those fascist pigs saved our sorry asses from getting shot in the back of the head execution style by a bunch of religious fascist pigs, so show some gratitude and enlighten them, will ya?!"

"Fine. Here it is: I think Benezia infected Caleston's society with a Memetic Worm."

Grey just stared at him, confused. "I'm sorry, a what?"

"Yeah, look, I know it sounds crazy, but listen: At first we thought Benezia was emitting some kind of psychic brainwashing wave, but she had been here for days - We weren't brainwashed, you guys weren't brainwashed-" he snickered. "-At least not by her, anyways, and we weren't making any progress as to what was going on until this Spirit chick hijacked the comms relay-"

"-You're welcome, by the way."

"Tch! Yeah, I guess we owe you for that, too. Anyways, we've been looking at the Templars' correspondence, and every single Knight Major in the Ascalon's battalion were going double-you-tee-eff and asking where Bafford was and who was that bitch giving them orders. Then they meet up with this Benezia chick and their mails are like ALL HAIL THE QUEEN. Then the Major's platoon leaders go what the shit is wrong with them, right? And THEY meet up with their Majors, drink the Kool-Aid, and the soldiers under their command drink it too."

"That... sort of explains the Templars... what about the cops?"

"Same deal! Benezia made a of tour Caleston and met with the leader of every major organization on the planet: The po-pos, the firemen, The gangs of Westside... she even met with Director Atkins of RedWater, and before long they started obeying the Queen too! The whole pattern fits that of a worm, only it spreads socially, not digitally, like a meme. Hence, Memetic Worm."

Grey, naturally, was skeptical at this explanation. "Alright, assuming I believe this, what's the method of infection? Hypnosis? Brainwashing?"

Manuel shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, dude. Maybe she found a way to hack souls?"

Someone knocked on the door built into the truck's neck, and Grey walked up to it with his pistol drawn.

"Thunder." he challenged.

"Flash." replied Jensen on the other side. "It's me, Shadow. Open up, Wolf."

The door hissed open, and Grey saw Jensen, his armor covered in dust and a sand colored trenchcoat, and his boots slightly caked in dried sewage. Manah was hiding shyly behind him, making herself as small as possible. Grey stepped out of the vehicle to greet her.

"Ms. T'soni? Mr. Wolf. I wish we could have met under better circumstances..." he holstered his pistol and held out his hand at her for a handshake, but she recoiled in fear. Grey was a bit confused at that reaction. Was he really that intimidating? "Was it something I said?"

"She has a condition," said Jensen. "She can't touch anyone, or they go...well, crazy."

"...She's touching you. Right now."

"I'm immune, apparently. But some thug in Westside tried to grab her, and... well, things got a little complicated. Look, just don't touch her, alright?"

"...Well, then." Grey simply saluted at T'soni. She, in turn took a slight bow, eyes closed in humility and politeness, and introduced herself.

"G-greetings. My name is Manah T'soni." Grey had to admit, despite her deferent tone, her voice had a sweetness to it that he found... enchanting.

"Ahem! Well, come on in." beckoned Grey as he climbed back aboard.

Jensen motioned T'soni to stay where she was and peeked into the truck. He appraised the interior for a moment, then: "It's a bit cozy in there."

Grey understood what he meant: "Everyone? Manah T'soni has some kind of condition: touching her is a big no-no, understood?" Neil and Ryan nodded, as did the Spookies, and Adam and Manah entered the mobile hacker's den.

"Whew! Someone's been taking a swim in shit!" exclaimed Manuel. "Name's Lunchbox, and this here is Spooky. Pleasure to meetcha, Mister Shadow dude!"

Spooky, in possession of a bit more tact, took out a can of chemical cleanser and threw it at the armored cyborg, who caught it effortlessly. "Here, spray this on the stinky bits. It'll clean the dirt right off. I'd offer you showers, but there's only so much water on Caleston to go around..."

A few minutes later, Jensen and T'soni were a bit cleaner and far less smelly, and Grey introduced them to everyone else in the truck. He then briefed them on the situation.

"Simply put, we're stuck here. Our transport out of the planet is grounded, Hein is silent, and Spirit is still out there in hostile territory while Mister Blue is stuck in the Alienage. Our first order of business is to ensure that we can escape the planet when we need to. That means taking back the Copperhead, but..."

"Without the right IFF codes, the Templars will be on to us in seconds." said Neil. "They've got control of the colony's GARDIAN lasers on the ground and in orbit."

"Lucky for you guys, I can help with that." said Spooky as he lit a cigarette. Manah coughed, and he put it out immediately. "There's a Cherubim Gunship stuck on the helipad of the RedWater building. The templar gearheads are trying to fix one of its engines, but its IFF pulse beacon should be intact. Just pull it out, and I'll be able to work my magic on it. Plug it in your Copperhead and unless you start shooting at Templars you should look like any other of their birds on radar."

"I'll assign Jane to the task," said Grey. "As for our secondary objective, the capture of the Prothean Monolith's central component... T'soni, can you provide any assistance in infiltrating the ruins?"

"You... you want to take it?"

"Of course, unless you'd rather we leave it at the hands of the Templars or Saren..."

"No... no of course not... Well, the Undercity is vast, more than three times the size of Syneu itself. If you want to access it, all you'd need to do is go straight down from anywhere in the city and you should reach the ruins. The only way I know of was the main shaft RedWater had dug for their new thermoelectric plant."

Grey nodded. "Seeing as we don't have an excavator drill, I guess we're going to have to go through the main shaft."

"The Templars will no doubt have the place guarded," said Ryan.

"Wait wait wait!" Manuel brought up a hologram of Syneu from his Omni-Tool. "Ladies and Gentlemen, RedWater's dirty little secret. They knew about the Prothean Undercity long before they found that monolith, since the founding of the city, in fact. They combed the place in the vain hope of finding working Prothean tech, but all they got was pieces of clay and metal for their efforts. Still, they moved a lot of samples through THESE elevators."

An incomplete map of the Prothean Undercity appeared under Syneu's hologram, and several small shafts connected the two.

"There's one in Westside, three Downtown, and the four in the eastern Red light district, now known as the Alienage."

Neil sighed. "Regardless of which we pick, we'll still have to march a long way: that relic is still some nine kilometers east of the edge of Syneu."

"It's up to you, sir." said Ryan. "Either we storm the gates, or we sneak in the back way."

"Or I sneak in through the front door," suggested Jensen.

Grey ignored him. "I'll think about it. In the meantime, Shadow? You're going to the Alienage and try and make contact with Mr. Blue: he hasn't reported in for a while, and he's not answering on his wireless."

"Has something happened to him?" asked Jensen, concerned.

"Don't know. That's what you're going to find out. Mister Moody? Get this truck as close to the Alienage as you can manage without drawing attention."

"Aye aye, cap'tain." replied Moody with a mock salute. "All this wireless activity without staying on the move was making me uneasy, anyways. We should make it there in about... an hour? Just in time for sundown."

Minutes later, the truck was on the move, and an awkward silence fell in the semi-trailer. Jensen thought he'd make some idle conversation with everyone. He thought he'd start with this Spooky fellow, and made his way to the tractor's passenger seat.

"Hey there." greeted Moody. "We'll be there soon enough, provided the traffic is favorable... which, as you can see, it kind of isn't," He chuckled sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

Jensen looked out of the polarized windshield, and the lane they were on was indeed packed. "Where are all these people going?" asked Jensen.

"Wherever the gangs of Westside aren't, and then some."

Three Vyzov Wanzers, bearing Templar colors, passed them in the other, emptier lane, skating at high speed.

"Of course," Moody continued, "now that the Templars just sent Wanzers into the place, the riot should be dying down."

"I'm curious, How many Templars are there in this city?"

"According to my snooping? About a thousand pairs of boots backed up by twenty five Wanzers."

"This is a city almost as big as Montreal, hard to believe that's enough to keep it under control."

"Yeah well, the Templars always were an arrogant bunch. Still, Wanzers and Power Armor can go a long way towards keeping a city under control, and the various Rent-a-cop agencies in charge of keeping the peace had the Templars' backs when they decided to take over. They kept order better than the police did, and that's great if you're a law-abiding citizen and all, but if you're a free-thinking ronin data samurai like me, well..." he lit up a cigarette, and breathed deep from it. "Well, you get a bullet to the brain, or worse. Templars love their secrets, and hate snoopers."

"Why did the Templars come here?"

"About a month ago the Ascalon came here to resupply and do whatever it is Templars do for R and R. His ladyship Bafford got wind of a Prothean artifact and decided to park his ship in orbit in the hopes of learning more. Then the Asari came, and things got tense, and a week ago some poor kid gets murdered by that girl's bodyguards." he nodded in Manah's direction. "Miners saw it happen, and all hell broke loose, and the Templars saw an opportunity to take over. Corporate worlds don't have the same restrictions as government-funded colonies do, but they don't get the perks, either... so the Templars were free to do it."

"Was this city always on the brink?"

"Nah, as a matter of fact this was well on its way to becoming RedWater's answer to Noveria. Problem is the economy ran on Eezo mining, and then the Quarians came along and sold RedWater some cheap mining technology, and Caleston got saddled with a large unemployed population before they could put their 'rent volcano lairs' plan into motion. They had to cut back on their Terraforming project, which made things even worse."

"Eezo mining, huh? Is that why there are so many biotic kids in Westside?"

"Yep. When RedWater founded this place there wasn't much to do to pass the time between mining shifts besides drink and screw, and thanks to RedWater's typical corner cutting there was a lot of in utero exposure to go around. There's thousands of biotic kids in Westside, and the system failed them completely, thus you've got a hundred biotic gangs, each about thirty strong."

"Shit, the Templars are going to have their hands full."

"Not really. Those kids aren't trained, and Templars are stone cold killers. Hopefully they'll back down once the blood starts hitting the floor, but... I don't know, there's something wrong in the air, and I get the feelings things are going to get crazier before they get better."

"You seem to have a finger on the pulse of everything that's going on here. Been living here long?"

"Just three years, actually. Been working freelance electronics security, so naturally..."

"You've left backdoors in every system you worked on."

Moody grinned. "Yep."

"Is that how you got all this hardware?"

"Most of it. Me and the kids needed a place to work, share ideas and exploits, you know?"

"Kids?"

"Yeah... there were about seven of us, before. Caleston's got... had this burgeoning sub-culture of extra-net hackers. Most of them were in it for the laughs, but I took notice of a bunch that were in it to uncover dirty corporate laundry. That tickled me a bit, so I decided to gather them all up in a proper group and teach them the ropes: Social engineering, hijacking comm systems, and so on."

"Seven? Where are the rest?"

Moody's voice went cold, and his smile vanished. "Templars killed them."

"...I'm sorry."

"You feel bad? Do me a favor and kill a few Templars on your way into the Undercity. I know it'll make me feel better."

Jensen wisely decided to leave Moody alone to his anger, and returned to the semi-trailer.

~[h+]~

Ryan finished double-checking his suit after giving the rest of the Deep Eyes' gear a once-over with his Omni-tool. When Jensen came back into the semi-trailer, he politely asked him if he could scan his suit for any damage.

"Sure, go ahead." replied Jensen.

"Okay then, just hold still a moment... Hm, besides some superficial damage on the suit, it all checks out. The Fandango is a little messed up, though. Been blocking with the edge?"

"...Yeah?"

"You never block with the edge: it's a surefire way to get the blade messed up."

"Thanks for the tip."

"Power cells are at 65 percent... and your Omni-Gel tanks are at a hundred percent? Huh."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no, but do you have something against using Omni-Tool apps?"

"I don't. It's just that I can solve most of my problems using my wits or my augs. I rarely need to spend the Omni-Gel."

"Well, you should start thinking about using your O-Tools more. Those things can be a real lifesaver. Trust me, I should know. That Omni-Armor feature alone should really increase your odds of survival the next time you enter close combat with Seraph wearers."

"I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask."

~[h+]~

"So this Benezia chick has got this mask..." said Manuel.

"That amplifies an Asari's bonding ability, yes," replied Manah.

"Ha! I always knew you Asari had weirdo telepathic mind powers, dude! You have to! I mean, how do you manage to look attractive to like, every species in the galaxy otherwise? Hey, are you using your mind powers on me right now?" Manuel promptly put on a hat made out of tin foil, much to Manah's confusion, and adjusted his thick glasses. "Ha-ha! Now I shall see your true form!... Bummer, it's not working. You're still gorgeous."

"Stop teasing her," said Shadow.

"Aw, she knows I don't mean nothin' by it, right? Anyways, this Mask thing totally confirms my Brain Worm theory!"

"...What do worms have to do with anything? My mother hates worms!"

"Nah, nah, see, the way she subverted the whole of Caleston looks just-"

"Hey!" interrupted Neil. "Mind turning up the volume on the speakers? There's some news on that monitor there, looks important."

"Right-O!" exclaimed Manuel as he typed a few keys.

"- report that the gang leader Cyrus had been personally killed mid-speech by Lord-Commander Caim, robbing the various gangs of Westside of centralized leadership. Templar forces are currently pacifying the area, and life in Westside is expected to return to normal by morning. In other news, communication with the various mining installations has ceased. It is probable that Foreman Parker has-

Manuel threw an empty cup of ramen at the monitor. "Aw, this is bullshit! What about this Sir Caim Cocksucker torching the slums?! Cover that, you fucking handpuppet! Hey!" He shouted at the truck's tractor. "Spooky! They killed Cyrus, man!"

Spooky shouted back: "What?! Aw, damnit, now we're really going to see some shit! Cyrus was keeping all the gangs focused, but now violence is going to spill downtown, mark my words!"

Manah's eyes were downcast and sorrowful. "It's all my fault... I should have just surrendered to them and maybe none of this would have happened..."

"Nah." said Manuel, flatly.

"But..."

"The fires of revolution were gonna burn this place down sooner or later. After two decades of RedWater's fuck-ups - shit work conditions, shit wages, shit education, shit healthcare and Atkins and all the other motherfuckin' pencil pushers like him living it up downtown? There was plenty of fuel on the ground already, and those scary bitches in red just lit a match on it. Then the Templars come in and try to douse it with fucking flamethrowers! None, I repeat NONE of this shit is your fault. It's RedWater's fault. It's the Templars' fault. And if what you've told me is true, then Benezia gets an extra serving of her fault too."

"Listen to him," said Shadow. "Don't take responsibility for the woes of an entire world... It's not good for the soul, trust me."

"I-" Manah was on the verge of tears. "I keep going back to that moment, and wonder if I had done things differently, things would not have gone so wrong..."

"...I know exactly how you feel..."

~[h+]~

"Shadow!" Moody called out. "We're here!"

Jensen nodded at him, and got up, ready to exit the vehicle.

"You're leaving?" asked Manah, troubled by the thought of her protector being absent.

"I need to check up on my friend," he replied.

"...Oh. Um, don't be long, please?"

"Don't worry, I won't."

~[h+]~

Night had fallen already on Syneu. Lampposts, multicolored OLED signs and the lights of skyscrapers were the only source of illumination, and Jensen had to admit, he preferred it that way. It was winter now, or what passed for winter on this mostly barren rock, and so the day night cycle favored the dark.

Getting into what the Templars had named the Alienage was easy: Cloak, climb the rooftops, and bypass the security checkpoints the power armored soldiers had set up. Jensen noticed the presence of Hashmal support mechs; bipedal, armless unmanned drones with legs built out of electroactive polymer muscles. Hein's briefing had been clear: Avoid.

...

Their upper bodies are packed with weapons: you've got special munition launchers, machine guns, and to deal with heavy armor, well... you see that mask in the cowling, there? There's a plasma projector in the mouth. Defensively, they can erect a Kinetic Barrier bubble around themselves and an entire squad. Don't let the size fool you: those legs make them fast, and they can kick you into next Sunday.

...

Jensen's helmet beeped, and the CALL icon appeared again. It was a call from Moody: "Hey there, welcome to the Red Light district, Shadow! Two square kilometers dedicated to sin, sin and more sin. Population: mostly aliens, now... although some humans decided to stick around."

"Moody? How'd you get this frequency?!"

"Err, Wolf gave it to me?"

"Oh. Right."

"Don't be so panaroid. It'd take me forever to crack that security of yours, and you'd see me coming a mile away... Who wrote those firewalls, by the by? I haven't seen security like this since... well, ever."

"Ahem. You had something to tell me?"

"Hm? Oh, right. Grey wanted me to point you in the right direction while you're in the Red Light district. I've uh... I've been here often. Heh heh. Anyways, you can stop skulking around. Templars don't patrol within the district."

"You'd think they'd want to keep tabs on the non-humans."

"No, they just want the aliens out of humanity's hair, not kill them... or so they say. They don't go out in the Terminus for shits and giggles... But, since Caleston is still technically in Council territory, they have to play nice with the aliens."

And of course, segregation wasn't technically illegal in Council space, due to racial biological considerations. Jensen walked out into the streets, and indeed, it seemed life was proceeding as normal... Better than normal, in fact: everyone seemed to be celebrating, or on their way to more celebrations.

"Why did the Templars turn the Red light district into a Ghetto?"

"Yeah, well, let's just say Templars frown on hedonism and merrymaking as much as they dislike alien influence, and figured they'd put both the Aliens and the 'filthy sinners' in the same spot. It's brilliant, actually: the best prison is the one you never want to leave, and the clubs and hotels here run 21/7. Food's crap, but hey, when you're eating a piece of protein off the sweaty, oily belly of a Drell dancer, who gives a shit, right?"

"...Right. Any ideas where Mr. Blue might have gone?"

"Grey tasked him with getting his hands on some explosives instead of looking for T'soni thanks to your heroics. The Templars wouldn't let your friends carry anything that could bust a tank, or blow up a building, so..."

"...They had to go OSP."

"And besides fucking, you can purchase just about anything in the District. It's got a healthy black market under the sheets, and I put Blue in contact with a Volus bartender I know. Here's the coordinates."

An icon appeared on Jensen's minimap. The establishment in question, a strip joint called Candi's, was not even three hundred meters away. The walk there had been uneventful. Indeed, the Templars were nowhere to be seen, and everyone on the street seemed more interested in enjoying themselves than paying attention to a tall man in a power suit and a trenchcoat. Electronic music with a heavy Bass played everywhere, and everyone swayed or danced to it even as they walked. Turians and Salarians were solicitating Asari and human prostitutes, the prostitutes occasionally solicited Jensen. Junkies were snorting Zyme on the streets. A Volus emptied his vomit tank into a sewer grate, and it was as if Mardi Gras never ended in the Motels. Didn't these people know that their city was going to hell?

"Is it always this lively?" he wondered out loud.

"...No." replied Moody. "Holidays at midnight, sure, but-"

"Oh! Jesus!"

A salarian fell over dead in front of Jensen, and try as he might he simply could not resuscitate the man. The green-skinned, almond-eyed alien looked like he hadn't eaten or slept in days, but judging from Jensen's scans his blood alcohol levels were through the roof.

"Poor bastard's been partying non-stop for days." Jensen looked around at the crowded street, at the passersby that didn't even give a glance to the corpse. They all looked so tired, yet possessed with a desire to keep on celebrating. If Garrus had been caught up in that feverish — almost supernatural — wave of hedonism, then Jensen needed to hurry.

Candi's bartender had initially been dismissive of Jensen, but a few platinum coins got him to open up. According to him, Garrus had kept his mind on the task and refused any drink or proposition that came his way. He had given him a tip that a small band of Drell mercs had stockpiled a bunch of mining explosives, intent on making cheap rockets and sell them to the Blood Pack. Seeing as they were stuck in the Alienage, the bartender suggested that Garrus try and buy some of it off of them.

"And where are the mercs located?" asked Jensen.

"Some old warehouse on 5th and Laddering street," answered the Volus bartender. "He went there eight hours ago. I hope he's alright. He had the cutest mouth, like a kitty!"

And on that mildly disturbing note, Jensen made his way to the street corner.

~[h+]~

In the mercs' underground lair, Garrus had taken a page out of Jensen's playbook and hid in the shadows, stalking the mercs one by one, patiently waiting in the dark for a chance to strike them down with his Stunner. There had been twelve of them, and they were all very alert.

At least, at first. After the chemist had given everyone the all-clear, the Drell mercs started drinking heavily, and after a while Garrus had given up on being stealthy and just walked up to each merc and stunned them. His patience had paid off, though not quite in the way he had expected. Oh well, he'd be sure to embellish that part of the story.

The chemist was the last to go, and he had just finished remixing the explosives in a more potent form and stabilized the stuff in a gel solution. Garrus had to finish packaging them in pipes, a careful process that took a couple of hours. He had tried to contact Grey, but at fifty meters underground, and with the walls lined with cheap lead, no signal could get through.

His work done, Garrus put six explosive charges in a satchel case and proceeded to make his way back to the surface.

~[h+]~

Just as Jensen was about to enter the warehouse, the door opened, and out came Vakarian, carrying a satchel.

"Whoa!" Vakarian drew his Mongoose at Jensen, but lowered it when he realized who he was aiming at. "Hey there, Jensen. Almost didn't recognize you in that getup. What are you doing here?"

"You didn't report, so Grey sent me to check up on you."

"Ah, yeah, sorry about that, but I kinda had to go underground to get these and couldn't receive any calls."

"Are those the explosives? How did you pay for these?"

"I didn't. I snuck in, knocked everyone out, then took their stuff."

Jensen shook his head and sighed. "Can't exactly judge: I used to do the same thing back in the old days before I was put on ice. Good work."

"Thanks... hey, is it just me or is everyone still celebrating?"

"It's not just you, they're going at it pretty hard."

"Spirits! They've been at it since the Templars put me in here!"

Jensen contacted Grey to give him an update on the mission.

"Wolf here. What have you got for me, Shadow?"

"Mr. Blue's fine: he secured some explosives but he wasn't able to report on account of interference."

"Good, at least we'll be able to destroy the artifact should it come to it. Come on back to- wait, hold on..."

Half a minute passed before Grey spoke again.

"Shadow, Spirit just reported back. She got her hands on the IFF, but much like Mr. Blue she was forced into radio silence. She had to evade Templar patrols and she hid somewhere in the Alienage. Go to these coordinates, and get her out of trouble if she is in any. Hurry up, Moody tells me two fire teams of Templars are after her."

"Roger that." Jensen relayed the orders to Vakarian, who sighed with mock tiredness.

"Do this, do that," he complained jokingly. "Is it just me, or does Grey expect us to do all the hard work?"

~[h+]~

Jane darted out of her seat and plunged her knife into the Templars' heart, and traded places with him in one smooth, swift motion. The heat of the blade cauterized the wound quickly, preventing any loss of blood, and she positioned him like a passed out drunk. Seeing as every soul in this nightclub was blitzed out of his brains, she really didn't have to bother, but it wasn't in her nature to be sloppy, which was why she shoved her heat knife into his hard-suit's data storage chip. There was only one left, trying to find her on the dance floor.

She found him first, and stuck a blade in his spine as she covered his mouth with her hand.

Content that her pursuers were now dead, she was free to leave through the fire exit and make her way out of this weird joint. She had gotten more than her fill of strange in the RedWater tower...

She opened the door, and waiting for her was a Crusader, flanked by two knights.

Before she could react, a beam of purple light passed through all three Templars at the neck, and they fell dead.

"Wow, Jensen..." said the familiar flanging voice of Garrus Vakarian. "You get me all the best toys, I think I might learn to like DEWs like this." Jane turned to see the Turian cop casually swagger her way wielding one of those new Templar Anti-Materiel guns, with Jensen at his side. She barely acknowledged them as she knelt down and shoved a blade into the back of the fallen Templars' necks.

"I think they're as dead as dead can get, Proudfoot." commented Jensen.

"You can never be too sure. Besides, they saw me: need to destroy the data chips in their suits."

"Thorough," said Garrus.

"Very." replied Jane as she gently knocked the side of her blade on the pavement, shaking the burnt blood away from the hot metal. The trio walked away from the three bodies, and they spoke as they strode.

"Are you okay?" asked Jensen.

"I'm not hurt, and I'm not tired. Thanks for asking. As for your next question: Yeah, I got the prize right here." she held up a heavy piece of electronics encased in metal with some wires sticking out. "One IFF pulse beacon, freshly cut out of a Cherubim's guts. What about you two? Have we crossed out the rest of our shopping list?"

"T'soni is safe, and Vakarian secured some high explosives."

"Nice to see the mission hasn't gone completely FUBAR. So, what's next?"

Jensen linked up his comm package to Vakarian and Jane's visors, and contacted Grey.

"Grey here."

"Shadow here, Spirit's okay. Request rendez-vous coordinates?"

"We're moving the Spooky truck as close as possible to where you are. Just head 457 meters northeast for extraction. We'll plan our entry into the Prothean Undercity once you get back. And Spirit? Good work."

"All in a day's work, sir." replied Jane.

"Grey out."

~[h+]~

Jane, Adam and Garrus walked towards the outskirts of the District, but the way there had quickly turned into an orgy of naked abandon. If the denizens of the Alienage seemed possessed by their desire for pleasure before, they had completely surrendered to it now. People were fucking each other on the street, not caring who was watching, and there were plenty of people eager to watch, then join in.

Jane winced at the sight. "I've had furloughs in Hong Kong more tame than this. Yeesh... Anyone else get a bad feeling from this place?"

"Yeah," replied Garrus. "I'm all for celebration but something just feels wrong here."

"And here I thought the RedWater Tower had been weird."

"Why, what happened in the tower?" asked Jensen.

"Well, there was almost nobody in there, for one thing. The few people that were present were fighting and killing each other over - get this - office supplies. Kept screaming that it was all theirs."

If Turians could whistle, Garrus certainly would have. "...Wow."

"Yeah? It gets weirder: I had to get Director Atkins' clearance to access the roof, and to do that I had to get in his office, which doubled as a penthouse suite. It was flooded with these ancient Prothean coins Atkins had apparently been collecting for years. He was buck naked, trying to swim in the piles. Of course, when he saw me he screamed like a madman, called me a dirty little thief, shouted something about some Black Queen wanting him to have all that lucre and fired a shotgun at me."

"I take it he regretted that?"

"Hey, fucker called me a thief!" she chuckled menacingly. "That reminds me, I pocketed a few of his coins, figured Hein would love to have a look at them. Wanna see?"

"When we're safe inside... what did Grey call it? The Spooky truck?"

"Yeah, not the most- HOLY SHIT!"

A trio of Asari that had ganged up on an orange Drell bared their teeth and began biting and tearing off huge chunks of his flesh. The man cackled in ecstasy, begging them not to stop even as his life's blood gushed out.

That was too much for Jensen to simply watch.

"Oh Spirits..." muttered Garrus in horror.

"Let him go! Let him go right now!" Jensen screamed, his stunner brandished. It took a few shocks (and a few punches courtesy of Jane) for each Asari to finally back down, and Vakarian pulled the Drell out of the fray. He applied some Medi-Gel, but it was too late: his heart rate was beating twice as fast as normal, and too much blood had been pumped out of his wounds. A silence came over the area -no, the entire district, and the trio found themselves almost surrounded by an entire crowd of people just staring at them...

"Uh oh." said Garrus. "Guys, I think we got their attention..."

"No shit!" hissed Jane under her breath, angrily.

"I noticed, thanks."

Every pair of eyes in the throng were fixed on the trio, and they glowed dimly with light of purple and scarlet. They licked their lips, their expressions ravenous. They looked upon the trio as a meal, alien in their calm and filled with the promise of flavor and blood and meat...

For a moment Jensen was back in Elysium, when the black gas bombs had went off and everyone went insane.

The men and women of the mob growled and leered, and approached the trio, intent in raping and eating them, not out of fury, but out of a pure desire to simply do so. The crowd charged at them, their hands grasping for flesh.

"Run like hell!" commanded Jensen. Jane and Garrus followed him through a gap in the crowd and into one of the Alienage's alleys, and pushed their legs to the limit. The crowd was starting to catch up to them, though, and while Jensen could evade them easily he refused to abandon Garrus or even Jane. Another crowd formed at the other end of the alley: the three of them were trapped.

"Fire exit!" shouted Jane, pointing at a metallic, skeletal stairwell. Its ladder had been destroyed, either through vandalism or misrepair, but Jane had no problem making a walljump for it and catching onto it with her tomahawk. Jensen helped Garrus up, as the Turian's heavy armor prevented him from matching Jane's acrobatics. Jane helped lift him onto the stairwell.

"Goddamn, you're heavy, kittybird!"

"I know! I should really consider dieting!"

The horde was getting closer...

"Jensen, get up here, now!" Garrus held out his hand. As Jensen leapt up to grab it, three biotic bolts of kinetic energy slammed into him at once and threw him into the arms of the waiting mob. They descended upon him like a pack of rabid dogs, and clawed at his armor, tearing his coat away.

The ripping sounds sent Garrus in a panic: "Spirits, no! Jensen? JENSEN?!"

Jensen shoved back, and six men and women were thrown off of him like rag dolls. He managed to get back on his feet and swim through the sea of bodies arrayed against him. They were focused on him now, and realizing this, he shouted:

"You two get the hell out of here! I'll distract them, and rejoin you later!"

"Are you crazy?!" screamed Garrus. "Jensen, this is no time to be a hero!"

"I don't intend to die here! I've survived much worse, trust me, now GO!"

Garrus was about to join his friend down there, not really thinking about how he could possibly help, before Jane stopped him. "Vakarian! We have to get out of here!"

"I'm not leaving him behind!"

"We're not! He's got a super-powered suit, he can take care of himself! But if WE stay here, we're going to get ourselves eaten! Now come on!"

~[h+]~

Jensen ran through the open streets, letting himself be seen. A mad Krogan tried to stop him by charging into him, but that only made him vulnerable to Jensen's throws, and the large lizard found himself propelled into a porn store. More pursuers spilled from the buildings and into the streets, and before long Jensen found himself surrounded. He quickly took note of possible avenues of escape, most of them vertical, and prepared to use them once the mob was sufficiently distracted from Jane and Garrus.

Then, the mob stopped, and its people spoke in unison, with a woman's voice, deep and calm:

"YOU. You are the one that took my daughter away from me."

Jensen realized quickly who really was speaking to him. "Matriarch Benezia, I presume."

"Yes... and yet, no. Benezia and I form a whole you cannot begin to comprehend, an entity both old and new. I am a being forged of fire, spirit and breath, born in a realm of existence so far beyond your own you cannot even imagine it. I am beyond your comprehension... I am the Black Queen."

Seven Asari stepped forward from the crowd, and held their hands forward.

"Kneel."

Gravity pushed Jensen down, and it was getting harder and harder for him to stay upright. While the 108's CNT muscle fibers kept Jensen standing, his organs started to feel heavy, and he doubled over in pain, grunting. He was caught, but he did not kneel.

"Where is Manah? My sweet little storm, I long to hold her in my arms, even as she longs to pull away from my embrace..."

"Go to hell!" grunted Jensen. His defiance earned him a biotic blast to the face, knocking down on the ground He struggled to get up, only for gravity to redouble its efforts into bringing him low.

"Come now, there is no need to be unkind. I can be a pleasant master... I can grant you your heart's desire, all you have to do in return, is swear fealty to me, and become my servant."

"You have nothing that I want!"

"...Your soul burns bright with defiance, but I can sense tendrils of longing emanating from it... A field of wheat..."

"Shut up!"

"A house of stone on a hill..."

"I told you-"

Adam let his hand caress the golden wheat, enjoying the texture. He had worked so hard, but now it was time for harvest, and he looked forward to finally stop his mercenary ways. He looked at his calloused hands, and smiled: the surgery, while it had robbed him of his incredible strength, had given him something back, something he had missed. That feeling of blood rushing through the veins of his fingers, the sensation of a woman's skin on his fingertips. Yes, he had missed this.

He climbed atop a hill overlooking his land, illuminated by the sunshine. A hundred yards away was his house, given to him and Fahl as thanks for their sacrifices. He shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight, and he could make out Fahl in the distance, applying a bandage on Sunny. Poor thing scratched her knee running around the house... Soon it would be time for dinner, and it was Jensen's turn to cook.

Yes, for the first time in his life, Jensen felt... happy, and fulfilled.

This is not real

The thought echoed in the back of Jensen's mind. It wasn't his own, but he knew it spoke the truth.

An oily shadow in the shape of a woman, wearing a dark, metallic mask appeared at Adam's side, and it whispered in his ear, in a voice both seductive and motherly at once.

"No, it isn't real... and soon you will wake, and face the bitter reality of their deaths as my minions tear you apart. But I can grant you this dream forever. Your mind will sleep, but your body will serve me. All you have to do... is submit."

"No... I, I musn't..."

"What has defiance brought you but pain? What has defiance brought you but loss? Is submission not preferable, when one is offered an eternity of paradise? Is it not preferable, when you have so much to gain? Let your story end in blissful illusion, my Adam..."

"Fahl and I... we earned this, we earned this moment..."

"Yesss... You deserve this, you've earned all of this...

"I... I'm just so tired..."

"I know... Rest... rest..."

"I... No."

"What?"

"I said NO!"

The blue sky shattered in a million pieces, revealing a sky covered in thunderclouds. The ground shook, and the land was set ablaze by bolts of lightning. Yes, defiance had brought Jensen so much loss, but if he had laid down and died like an animal on Elysium, then he would have never had the moment of joy that Benezia was imitating before his eyes. Thousands would have died if he had not resisted the madness then... and he felt as though untold billions more would perish if he did not resist now.

"How?! How can your resist me?!"

"Get. Out..."

"...OF MY HEAD!"

The Element Zero nodes in the 108 suit surged with a negative current, and a burst of mass lightening dark energy pulsed outwards, freeing him from the mass altering field that weighed him down. Jensen roared as he raised his fist, and the seven Asari that served as biotic proxies for Benezia were lifted up, helplessly flailing into the air. He glowed briefly a yellow green light, and swatted them away like flies into a nearby building. His rage subsided, and he breathed hard as flames of dark energy faded away from his armor.

As the horde was about to descend on him, insane with lust, canisters of tear gas rained down exploded all around, and Hashmal support mechs leapt and landed on the streets and the rooftops, spraying rapid-fire concussion rounds into the sea of bodies. Jensen cloaked, and took advantage of the chaos to get away.

~[h+]~

Moody was just reading a Galactic Electronics article on advanced security systems when he heard the rumbling of footsteps in the distance.

"Guys?" he called out to his passengers. You hear that?"

Grey stepped out of the vehicle to see, and he started hearing gunfire. Hashmal support mechs strode and leapt into the Alienage.

"Oh, no..." he muttered. as he tapped the side of his helmet, activating his comm unit. "Spirit? Spirit are you there?"

"We're still alive, sir, but we-" she gasped, and breathing hard. "We stirred up one fucked up hornet's nest! We're a hundred meters away and we're coming with company! I hope your truck's engine's warm!"

"Moody! Switch the engine on, now! Spirit! Are you being pursued by Templars?"

The rumble of a thousand footfalls approached, and Grey could make out Vakarian and Jane coming around a corner like bats out of hell... And behind them was a swarm of crazed civilians, mostly alien, their eyes glowing with an evil light colored purple and scarlet.

"No sir, hostiles are most definitely not Templars, sir!"

"What the flying motherfucking fuck?!" shouted Moody.

Grey's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, Jesus! Get in the truck, now! Move it, move it!"

The duo went into full sprint and reached the vehicle with the stampede just twenty seconds away from reaching the truck. Grey hurried them in, and ordered Moody to hit the accelerator pedal as he climbed back into the truck.

"Wait!... gasped Vakarian as the truck sped away "My partner! He's still out there!"

The tide of bodies was ten seconds away from reaching the truck, but just then a dark figure burst through the bodies and sped past them like a bullet train. It was Jensen.

"Keep moving!" he signaled Grey. "I can catch up!"

Jensen ran beside the silver vehicle and caught up to the door, and Grey reached out to take his hand, bringing Adam into the safety of the truck. Some of the faster aliens slammed into the side of the truck as it sped away, and Grey took one last glance at the rampaging mob before closing the door. The glow in their eyes faded, and whatever it was that allowed them to keep up with a speeding truck was gone. They fell on their knees, in pain, no doubt realizing how hard they had pushed their bodies.

Inside the semi-trailer turned hacker den, Jane and Garrus fell on their posteriors, exhausted. Vakarian's breath was the most ragged, since he was the one that had to jump from rooftop to rooftop and sprint while wearing makeshift heavy armor and carrying packs of explosives.

"Now, could any one of you explain to me what the hell just happened?!" commanded Grey.

~[h+]~

Author's notes: thanks to Vandenbz and Setokaiva for the proofreading.