Chapter 25: It's A Start
Horizon was an airy-beautiful agrarian idyllic world. It was Eden Prime before the geth and without the Alliance. 643,315 people lived on the colony. Their safety like it or not relied upon the very organization they severed ties with—The Earth Systems Alliance. Implementing these measures was one very board discontent Second Lieutenant marine.
The only friend she seemed to have made in this whole god damn place was Lilith—the elected 'governor' of the colony. She was the only one to understand the necessity of the AA tower. Apparently the only reasons Horizon even accepted it in the first place was because they had heard of the Blood Pack's attack on Fehl Prime that had nearly seized the colony. And then there was the disappearances of Freedom's Progress, Ferris Felids and it not been for that factor Horizon would have completely denied Alliance aid. The Alliance Brass wasn't ready to admit to Collectors being the culprits. They were fully ready to lay blame to raiders and lately to Cerberus.
As it was many Horizon citizens began to blame Williams for every hiccup large or small that befell the colony. She was the great Alliance gremlin. Nothing like being shunned by your own kind. Even despite the fact a few sons and daughters of Horizon had enrolled in the Alliance Navy. Though to be fair they only did it because it was the only way they could afford to go to university. Give the Alliance four years of your life and they pay for your education a sweet deal. But for Williams she never considered those types to be true patriots—true soldiers. There was one chick back on furlough some kind of egghead tech specialist that got far more respect and trust than the young Second Lieutenant only because she came from Horizon.
A portion of Ash's mind went to Liara those first months on the Normandy when they were in pursuit of Saren. The young archaeologist was always scrutinized; always suspect, never trusted by the Normandy save by one: Shepard. Every look of a Horizon citizen was a barb, every whisper was one the edge of a razor blade—where they muttering about her, or they speaking of some other matter? They never gossiped about Traynor like that. When Williams went into the commons, dinners, or cafes the residents stopped talking, watched her as she gathered her food, and sat down either at the counter or a booth. Only later did Lilith make a point of eating with her, not unlike Shepard would always time her meals when Liara ate hers.
Shepard's strategy worked back then for worked the most part. First the aliens decided to trust Liara then slowly the other crewmembers. First among them had been Dr. Chakwas, then Joker and Adams. Pressly never stopped mistrusting Liara not until the end, which had only been revealed in his recovered journal from the Normandy crash site.
Gaining the same hostile if not cold and distant looks from the colony as Liara had from the crew; Williams had a sudden since of sympathy for the asari maiden. She knew back then some of the coldest most disdainful looks had come from her. It wasn't until after Novaria when Liara helped stop her mother by killing her that Williams had shown any inclusion of Miss Prothean Expert into the crew. After that, Ash had softened a little for the asari and what she was going through.
William had lost her father; the only difference was Ash didn't have to help kill him. His illness had taken care of that. Ash would never forget the cries of anguish wrenching from Liara's throat as she held her dead mother in her arms, dead at the hands of Shepard—the woman the young maiden was in love with.
Williams stood upon the small balcony of her given quarters which was one of the smaller prefabs. It was a single large room plus bath but with a bit of clever rearranging Ash had managed to make a few subdivisions. She used an old fashioned fanned partition to create two rooms separating the kitchenette and common room from the 'bedroom' and ensuite. It was a cozy little place, kinda homey. It reminded her of the place she Penny aka Pennyloafer and Nirali from 212 back on Eden Prime shared together. It was the same size actually the only difference was she had a single rack instead of bunk-beds.
Night fell upon this little world. Bending back black to phosphorescent yellows and greens. Sickening hues like alien puss. Neon hummed behind the glass, twisted tubes giving illumination to the pathways of the village.
Rain. Gouging thin canals though soiled windowpanes. The sound of thunder and the pattering of rain always brought a stillness to Williams. She loved the rain. It was like being back home with her family. Back when her dad was still alive. The two of them would sit upon the back porch, safe from the mosquitoes by the screened in walls, safe from the rain by the elongated eves of the porch roof. There father and daughter sat reading all manor of poetry from Whitman to Tennyson but mostly Ulysses. Dad had always said the rain was a way the world cleansed itself, made itself anew. There was always peace back then. Peace in those words.
The rain didn't bring peace to the mind now. The words were hollow. Rain here was like the world was weeping. There was no cleansing air after it went away. Just puddles of mud and soggy spongy sod. It made Ash feel trapped inside. Like floating in a coffin. But not dead. Not yet….
Dad once told her the water from the sky was as old as the earth. As a girl Ash had watched it fall. The same water. Billions of years. Over and over. Fish crawled out of it. Humankind crawled out of it, too. Dinosaurs fed on plants, drank from lakes. That rain had been part of those lakes. The wells of villages. Warriors, barbarians, knights, samurai, soldiers. The water they drank went up and came down. The same water trapped in a cycle.
Same on Horizon or any colony Ash supposed. Maybe the water here only seemed newer because now there were people here where there were none before. The young officer felt disconnected. She tired to blame it on the resentful colonists but it was more than that. Maybe less too. Truth was she knew why she felt that itching discord she just didn't like bringing light shining on it. Like the jaundice streetlamps it made things seem sickly in its glow. And yet without the pale light, you'd get lost and stumble about trying to find your way once more.
It was because when she looked in the mirror Williams felt she should have been paid thirty pieces of silver for talking to that god damn shrink. She looked out at the land and saw the splashes of rain drops hit mud puddles she felt maybe…just maybe she had done the right thing. Like forcing a friend through an intervention because you loved them and you hated seeing what they were doing to themselves. Tough love. It just had to be done.
Raindrop hits pavement, no Shepard isn't indoctrinated. She can't be. It was cyan syndrome that made her behave the way she did. The loss of her baby she was empathically connected to when she died. It'd be enough for anyone to lose themselves for a bit.
Drop hits mud puddle. But the CS was caused by all those connections to Prothean devices, all those nightmares she can't wake from. Water-pavement. She fought it, got fixed. Cleared for duty. Water—puddle. Shepard mind gets murky becomes clouded distorted version of her true self. She's become the reflection in a mud puddle.
Water- puddle: You did the right thing. She needs help. Water-pavement: Traitor! Turncoat! You broke her trust, what kind of Trusted does that? Can you even call yourself her Trusted anymore? But-
Water mud water pavement. Splash-splat-splash-splat. Over and over trapped in a cycle. The rumbling thunder was her mind, lighting her heart: jagged and sparked.
Ash went back to the report Shepard had made concerning the Reapers. It was written up as a codex entry to educate. Those words now echoed though the 2nd Lieutenant's mind.
Reaper 'Indoctrination' is an insidious means of corrupting organic minds, "reprogramming" the brain through physical and psychological conditioning using electromagnetic fields, infrasonic and ultrasonic noise, and other subliminal methods. The Reaper's resulting control over the limbic system leaves the victim highly susceptible to its suggestions.
Organics undergoing indoctrination may complain of headaches and buzzing or ringing in their ears. As time passes, they have feelings of "being watched" and hallucinations of "ghostly" presences. Ultimately, the Reaper gains the ability to use the victim's body to amplify its signals, manifesting as "alien" voices in the mind.
Indoctrination can create perfect deep cover agents. A Reaper's "suggestions" can manipulate victims into betraying friends, trusting enemies, or viewing the Reaper itself with superstitious awe. Should a Reaper subvert a well-placed political or military leader, the resulting chaos can bring down nations.
Long-term physical effects of the manipulation are unsustainable. Higher mental functioning decays, ultimately leaving the victim a gibbering animal. Rapid indoctrination is possible, but causes this decay in days or weeks. Slow, patient indoctrination allows the thrall to last for months or years.
"…Slow, patient indoctrination allows the thrall to last for months or years."
Other words now chorused in Williams mind. 'I need my Trusted at my six because this place is fracking around with my head. There are too many ghosts. I need someone there to be objective, Liara won't be. She has touched the Cipher images through me and additionally there's our bond… you get the picture. We share memories, thoughts and dreams; it will be difficult for her to pull back. I need your fresh, untainted perspective on this.'
'…hallucinations of "ghostly" presences….. This place is fracking around with my head. There are too many ghosts….splash-splat…splash…splat…puddle-pavement-puddle pavement…. 'I need someone there to be objective,' splash—splash-splash… I need my Trusted at my six because this place is fracking around with my head.
splash-splash
The cipher and the beacons, all that death, screams of the dying lasting for centuries then suddenly silenced. It echoes in my mind in a frantic playback loop. I hear the warnings of the twelve, the silent deaths of thousands as their cryogenic chambers were shut down by the dozens and the hundreds. Their voices echo like a faint white noise in my mind. Gives me headaches.
Splash-splash-splash.
Organics undergoing indoctrination may complain may complain of headaches and buzzing or ringing in their ears.
Splash-splash-splash.
Back on Klencory with Beings of Light and their Device. The memory of those five days was a lighting strike.
Shepard said something but it wasn't in Alliance Basic or Asarian. Only once had Williams heard those exact words. It was the warning crying out from the security station on Ilos.
"Skipper, wake up you're having a nightmare." Ash recalled shaking her Skipper to get her out the nightmare but to no avail, its hold on her far too strong. She remembered the feeling of desperation as she heard Shepard continue to mutter out the cries and warnings of the dying Prothean people. The Skipper's body folded in on itself into a fetal position. Her breathing was becoming rapid, she was hyper ventilating.
"Skipper, I can't link my mind to yours." Ash whispered, once more trying to jostle the woman awake. It wasn't working. For a moment Williams toyed with waking Nual to get her to link with the Skipper but she tossed that idea as soon as it entered her mind. The Spectre need not be seen so vulnerable.
"Contact. You need contact." Stripping off her BDU blouse and black tee-shirt she moved towards her skipper took the other woman's limp hand and placed it against her breast, so that she could feel Ash's beating heart. Touching the Skipper's hand at the wrist Ash could feel the pulse; it was thready - too rapid.
"Sam, feel my heart. Let it lead you back from that dark place. Come on, Sam make your heart beat with mine. Come on wake up. Come on …come on … pull yourself out of there. You just have to follow the beating of my heart. Okay?" Ash leaned her forehead against her skipper's. "Sam. It's okay. That isn't your people dying, it isn't your time. That is long past. We won't let that happen again. You have to come back now. You have no place in that darkness. Those aren't your memories, so you have to give them back."
SPLASH-SPLASH-SPLASH
Indoctrination can create perfect deep cover agents. A Reaper's "suggestions" can manipulate victims into betraying friends, trusting enemies,
The Skipper doesn't trust the Alliance Brass anymore, suspects the Council has turned on her and now is in league with Cerberus….
SPLASH-SPALSH-SPLASH
The mud puddles coalesced on the lawn flooding it into a miniature pound.
"She needs help." Ash said to the rain. Her heart ached for the truth of it. It was all there, the peaces fit…Shepard was indoctrinated. "She's betraying everything she believes in and doesn't even know it. Just like Saren. Just like Benezia." The lighting hit a tree out front casing it to busts into flames. Fortunately it was a single tree in the middle of the mud puddle 'pound' the fire wouldn't spread to any of the homes or other foliage. It was contained in the circle of water surrounding it. Ash watched it burn. The flames of indoctrination were not so easily contained…
Liara…Liara had touched the Cipher, within the Skipper. The two were linked so fully there were times it was difficult to tell one soul from the other. Probably meant there were hints of indoctrination within Liara too. Just like Saren and Benezia. And though Liara had allowed the nightmare visions to touch Ash's mind it was like viewing a copy of a copy. It was only the images, those horrible hellish images of machines tearing into flesh and converting sentient free-thinking organics into mindless-soulless husk-creatures. Drones of destruction. Like the flittering embers of the tree-fire if not for the deluge to wink them out of existence.
Chard limbs of the tree fell and hit the water sizzling until it went out. Leaves tattered and fell away into ashen remains—little green corpses of what was, the ash holding the memory before the wind and rain eroded it into nothingness.
How much was Shepard truly there? Whose puppet was she? Prothean or Reaper? Did it really matter now that she had joined forces with Cerberus?
The downpour was quickly snuffing out the life of the fire and Ash knew what she had to do to protect her Skipper's six. The right thing was never easy, but it had to be done.
"Outside it's raining and I'm watching at my window,
In silence of the world, only the dance of rain I could feel,
My thoughts are in torment of questions and answers,
Only the rain knows what I need.
Rain falls gradually in the rhythm of my thoughts,
I feel it's wrapping my pain,
The voice of rain calming my senses,
When my heart is rushing to beat.
I'm watching rain from window,
The cold drops are touching the thirsty ground,
My soul is the same as the soil…"
She quoted a poem she read back when she was a teenager. Now more then ever these words touched her had meaning for her. Her soul felt as soggy as the soil realizing Shepard her dear friend, her hero, her Skipper could no longer be trusted.
God she hated the rain.
MEMEMEMEMEMEME
Shepard walked out of the lift and rounded the partition to the Mess Hall. She was about to reach for a cup to fill it with coffee when Kelly handed her one already made.
"Part of being your personal assistant." she said in answering the curious look Shepard had just given her.
"Thanks." The Spectre held up her cup before taking a sip. "So how's the Illustrated Woman fitting in?"
"She keeps herself apart from the others. I have to say though her tattoos are beautiful. As colorful at her past I'm sure." Chambers began a conversation.
"Yeah, I'll say." Joker commented from his place at the table. He was shoveling down a pile of scrambled eggs and hashbrowns as if he'd never taste another meal again. It was rather disturbing to see him scarf down so much food without taking a breath in-between bites. When he finally did pause it was around a mouth full of potato that he shoved in the corner of his cheek giving him a distinctive chipmunk look. "You'll want to keep an eye on that last one, Shepard. We can only hold so much crazy."
"While that isn't the word I would have used Commander, I too have concerns about her temperament."
The Commander took a sip of the sweetened coffee. "You have concerns about Jack?"
Both Kelly and Joker shared a dumbfounded look returned it to the Spectre
"Ah that's a big affirmative." Joker was as always teetering on the lines of insubordination.
"I know she will be solid under fire. But her attitude suggests deep personal issues." Kelly drew the Commander's attention back to her. "She pushes people away yet approaches sex casually. I don't think she understands her own motivations. Just be careful talking about personal issues."
Shepard took another sip of the coffee. "I'll be careful not to piss her off."
Kelly smirked. "Just warn me if you fail. I want a chance to hide."
Shepard chuckled.
"Yeah me too Commander. You know speaking of hiding is it safe keeping her down in the hold area? I mean that little cubbyhole by engineering she could do some serious damage from there. You saw what she did to Purgatory."
"Have a little faith. As long as she doesn't feel cadged she won't do something stupid. I got a feeling about her. I think she can be trusted. She just needs a chance." another sip of coffee. "I'm also initiating the obligatory shared meals I had with the first team when we were hunting Saran."
"Hate to bust your bubble there Shepard but I don't think this new crew you're putting together is into socializing much. Bunch of loners." Joker pointed out.
To which Shepard countered with. "And the first wasn't? We had a reclusive introverted archeologist, a turian cop who worked his beat alone or with only one other partner, a krogan merc who worked with only small teams or by himself. A very shy quarian, a slightly xenophobic grumpy-chip-on-her-shoulder Gunnery Chief and two Alliance commissioned officers who technically should not have been fraternizing with the lower ranks. But it worked. For the team the shared meals helped. Might not have seem so on the large scale but soon they were chatting, bantering and teasing each other in long ass elevator rides and bumpy Mako journeys.
"The whole point of the obligatory shared meals is to make them socialize-get used to one another as a team. Besides" she flashed a cocky half grin. "I'm the Commander they don't have a choice just like my first team didn't."
"You have a lot of confidence in this plan. But Jack's profile suggests she will not create an allegiance with anyone associated with Cerberus." Kelly advised.
"And I had a krogan warlord and a turian C-Sec officer working together. By the end they may not have been best of friends but they were at least allies. Besides, I'm not Cerberus." She looked to Joker. "Speaking of which can I assume things have settled in the cockpit?"
"Shhh-zzza-zaaah shhhh." Joker shook his head.
Shepard crossed her arms over her chest, her voice becoming authoritative: A tone suggested she wasn't in the mood for playtime. "Joker?"
"I can tell when it's listening." He looked around him in the mess hall as if the AI was lurking about.
The Commander rolled her eyes at his overly dramatic display. EDI is the Normandy of course she was…
"I am always listening, Mr. Monroe." EDI interjected saying just what the Commander was thinking.
"I know!" he slumped in the bench dejected.
"Get over it Joker. I'm sure she doesn't listen in on you while you're in the shower or the head."
"WHAT!" the flight lieutenant shot strait up nearly straining his brittle bones to near braking. "Seriously?! Oh mannnn …."
"The Commander is correct, Mr. Monroe. It is beyond my ethical programming to monitor the crew members' activities while using the toilet or shower facilities."
"I sure as hell hope so. Because that is way too creepy and just eww." Looking at Kelly the pilot added. "Your Illusive Man has some real issues you know that? He is paranoid beyond belief and for the record very creepy."
Shepard left Joker and Kelly to their conversation and headed for the lower decks. Namely Jack little hidey-hole as Chambers had come to call it.
MEMEMEMEMEMEME
Jack heard the steps of combat boots hitting the metal steps. The steps were heavy and measured-a soldier's gate. They were full of confidence and commend. They were also human. Shepard.
The tattooed woman looked up from the pad she was reading and saw the dark harried Commander came into the dim light of her 'den'. "Hey." she said looking up once then back down to the pad in hand. She figured Shepard would make a show sooner or later. Amazing she waited a full day before she showed her face. But hey whatever.
Out of the corner of her eye Jack watched as the Commander took glance at her space, casing it, but she'd probably say some military shit like assessing the terrain. Like she was entering some sort of enemy territory some crap like that. Didn't take long. But it's her ship, so of course she knew the ins and outs even if she stole it from Mr. Illusive. As casually as you'd want Shepard rested against one of the upright I-beams just under the steps and folded her arms under her breasts. "Any thoughts on the mission?" she said instead of the usual droll salutation.
"Don't care. I'm out to survive it then cut lose."
Shepard looked as if she wanted to say more like why didn't Jack want to know more of the details. But she kept silent for a moment then as invasive as you could get she blurted out. "Tell me about you, Jack."
The convict held up the pad. "I'm still finding out about me." in a moment of rare sincerity she added. "Thanks for letting me look at theses files."
Shepard nodded. "If they're helping you that's good enough for me."
"Shit you sound like a pussy. Don't try to be my buddy, Shepard. You need me to kill for you; I need you for these files. Let's leave it there." Son of a bitch was the woman smiling like that god-damn cat in the book with the little kid named Alice. Like Shepard expected the answers she received. Jack ignored it. "Your friends from Cerberus are into some nasty things."
Shepard let out a small dry chortle that said: 'tell me about it.'
"I'm going to find something I can use. I just know it." Jack said more to herself than her 'guest.'
Shepard scratched the back of her neck. "What if the answers aren't what you expect?"
Jack turned to meet the commander's ice blue eyes. "I'm not looking for answers. I'm looking for names, dates, places."
"Hum, and what happens when you find what you're looking for?"
"Easy. I go hunting. Anyone who screwed with me pays. Their associates pay. Their friends pay. The galaxy is going to be a lot emptier when I'm through."
A darkness settled in Shepard's heart. One of familiarity. Jack could see it in the older woman's eyes. Like she felt it, knew what it was to want that kind of vengeance. Like she made people burn.
Jack half expected the Queen of the Girl Scouts to tell her she wasn't allowed to go on a killing spree. She would have snapped right back that she was only there for the mission, after it was over what she did was her business. But Shepard said nothing. Well nothing about the killing spree.
"What's your history with Cerberus?"
Jack pushed herself up off the cot she had been sitting on. "They raised me in a research facility. I escaped when I was still a kid. Been on the run ever since." she moved to the darkest corner of the little cubby hole. "And they've been chasing me ever since." In that darkened nook she reached for her Carnifax hand cannon. "But soon I'm gonna chase them."
Shepard continued to watch her, like one big ass cat watching another one. "You think about this a lot don't you?"
Jack turned the gun over in her hand looking at the matte finish on the barrel, the blinking LID lights of the heat sinks. It was a thing of beauty. Of security. "I go to sleep with this. I wake up with it. Everyone I kill I pretend they are the ones that did this to me."
Jack waited for…something. About now if she were in a joint the Warden would start in with the rules and shit then he'd dig in with challenges, comments about her ink, insults usually they started with; 'You think all that ink makes you one tough bitch / dyke?' or 'What fuck are you? Body of a boy, tits of a teenaged girl. You like cock or are you a carpet muncher? Or both?' Then she'd have to put the asshole in his place. Get her ass booted either into a cryo-tank or solitary. Hell she got that crap from the few merc groups she had joined up with.
But she didn't expect the words she heard.
"You don't to stay down here in this hole you know. We can arrange better quarters."
Once more Shepard turned the tables on h her. Jack felt like one moment she was swimming around with the shark the next in a tide poll watching a lazy ray skitter across the low sands. She couldn't get a grasp of the Commander's train of thought.
Jack tried to play it cool, like this shifting of conversation hadn't thrown her. "It's dark, it's quiet and difficult to find. That spells safety to me." She wants to play these little games then let's play! Jack rushed from the corner leapt up over a crate and pounced on the table that had been separating her from the Spectre and landed on a single bent knee. Shepard instinctively took a step back; her body brimmed in the blue of summoning dark energy but quickly dissipated.
Jack smirked.
Good reflexes though. "You know this ship is a powerhouse. You could go pirate. Live like a queen."
Shepard smirked back. "I think the Terminus Systems has its limits of Pirate Queens. Besides I'm not one for parrots. They'd crap all over the leather coat. Can't do biotics with hooked hands or pegged legs. And eye patches are just not me." she drawled. "I do like a bit rum however."
Jack snickered. "Come on you already stole it once from what I hear. Right from that bastard's own station too. Would have loved to have seen that! You're already half way there Shepard. I could lead your boarding parties." Jack was still smiling. "When this mission is over we'll be either dead or out here in space. Lots of creds, freedom to go wherever you want and all the mayhem and fighting I could want."
Shepard chuckled. "Tempting but no. I'd have to arrest myself. Spectre and all that."
"And now you've taken all the fun out of it." Jack jumped down from the table. "But think about it. You and your little blue wifey out here in the Black. No one crapping on you for marrying outside your species and shit. Lots of places to get lost in."
"I'll admit taking the Normandy from Cerberus was fun as was blowing up that station where she was berthed. But I've got the Collectors to worry about. Tell me. What is it about killing that excites you so much?"
And the shark enters the tidal pool blind-siding Jack once more with the shift of questioning. She paused to collect her bearings before she answered. "I figure that if someone dies and it's not me my chances of survival go up." a shrug. "Simp."
Shepard only nodded. Jack got the impression the Spectre was gaining a lot more out of their conversation then the words they traded. It was like she was watching an animal. Seeing how it moved and reacted to outside stimuli. Hell the tattooed woman was doing the same with the Spectre. Fast reflexes. Sharp. A bit of humor. Defiantly a predator, and most certainly alpha-female. Downside: she had an Alliance allegiance stick stuck up her ass. Leastwise she wasn't trying to bash yer brains with it.
"Group activities aren't your thing." it was an observational not a question.
"Nope."
"Too damn bad. As apart of the flagship team you will be expected to train together and eat together. It's breakfast time. So get your scrawny ass up deck and get some chow with the rest of us. Not asking you to like it. You're just going to do it." Shepard used the same authoritative tone she had back on Purgatory. There was no auguring, no countering. Despite herself and to her own amazement Jack obeyed.
Jack and Shepard arrived just as the others were queuing up. The convict noticed the old man, the asari and cheerleader from the Purgatory. Coming up behind her was the XO Garrus and a little quarian. The convict didn't recall her name other than her last name was the same as the ship's. Guess they were the married couple. Meh. Didn't matter. Behind the 'lovebirds' (Jack smiled at her own puny thoughts of birds and turians.) came a drell and the salarian. Red had said something about him being head of sciences. Figures. Those bug-eyed frogs weren't much good for anything else.
All eyes were on her. She felt them but fuck it. She was half naked with only a leather belt to cover her tits and her entire body was covered in ink. Aint like people don't watch her anyway. But here it felt like half of them were not just judging her on her appearance, but why was she even allowed on the team. Like they deserved to be and she was just scraps a veran wouldn't even touch. Screw them. She'd show those pansy assed pussies who deserved to be here.
Instinctively she felt like bolting but Shepard was directly behind her, making escape unlikely unless she wanted to employ violence. Look at 'em all they were expecting her to do that. Well fuck them. She can play nice. Weirdly it was comforting to have Shepard right there.
She was expecting someone to ask about the ink. They always ask about the ink. Somebody else to say they were thinking about getting ink but never pulled their balls out of their purses and just got it done. Or they had ink and were eager to show her theirs and blabber about how and why and when they got it. Like it mattered to her as much as it did to them. She didn't hear a sound from them, not even whispering. It was as if they were all waiting for cues from Shepard; even the Cheerleader was keeping her bitch trap shut.
The only one to talk was the Commander. "Don't take from the red trays unless you want a world of pain. That's dextrose for Tali and Garrus. Anything in blue trays or wrapping on it has high caloric intake generally reserved for us biotics. Silver is plain old plain old."
"Ah now Commander you gone and hurt my feelings." Mess Sergeant Gardner protested. "Me and my guys put a lot of time and effort into cooking for you lot."
"In between making sure the plumbing is working and the heads are clean?" Shepard shot back as she placed a few sausages on her tray making sure they didn't quite touch her scrambled eggs or bagel though she didn't seem to mind they rolled next to the hashbrowns or baked beans. She also grabbed an energy drink
"Hey I wash my hands." The old cantankerous cook protested.
Shepard made a noncommittal noise as if she didn't quite believe him but it had better be true.
"Wait you're telling me the guy who cleans the crapper is the guy who makes my food?!" Jack groused.
"I threatened him with a court-martial for willingly and knowingly poisoning the crew if he didn't keep very strict sanitary rules concerning KP." Shepard intervened.
"That and ya said if I didn't follow 'em you'd make sure I never get to see the inside of Galaxy Master Chief. I made it for the next year's auditions. But the Spectre here is holding my pass as hostage. One case of food poisoning or anything toxic what's-it-whoose'ja and I can say good bye the dream."
Shepard smirked and left the line with her tray of food. Jack trailed after her. Looking back over her shoulder at the Mess Sergeant with some dubiousness. "I swear if I get a whiff of a urinal cake anywhere near my food I'll blast his crusty ass out the fucking airlock."
"You'd have to stand in line to do that." Garrus said as she shoveled a bit of dextrose 'pancake' into his mouth. "I promised to do that the first day."
The rest of the table chuckled, nodded their heads and other muttering of agreement. Including the asari and salarian.
"It was my understanding that in such cases back in day of human history keelhauling was the proper course of action." said Samara.
"Yes. Yes also very popular was dunking. Though that was for drunkenness. Cat o' nine tails. Clapping in irons. Marooning. Sweating also popular. Involved the crew poking and prodding the victim with cutlasses, swords and various sharp instruments. While he tried to dodge the blows. This was made rather difficult as he was attached to a mast by a short rope. The victim's only option was to run or 'dance' around the mast all the time accompanied by the sound of the ship's fiddle." Mordin added. "Cutlass can be replaced by Omni-blades. I know some lively tunes."
"Hear that Gardner!" Zaeed belted out. "We'll 'sweat ya' if you don't keep in line."
"Yeah yeah I'll keep that in mind…." the last of the Mess Sergeant's words rambled into an unintelligent grumble. Though there seemed to be a lot of expletives involved.
"Hang on there Prof, you said you know some lively tunes? Such as?" Garrus prompted.
"Hum human music fascinating. Enjoy Gilbert and Sullivan."
"You know Gilbert and Sullivan?" Miranda asked incredulously.
The salarian nodded then to prove his point he went on to sing the 'Pirates of Pezanse' only it wasn't it had been changed:
"I am the very model of a scientist salarian - I've studied species turian, asari and batarian - I'm quite good at genetics as a subset of biology - because I am an expert which I know is a tautology! My xenoscience studies range from urban to agrarian - I am the very model of a scientist salarian!"
There was a very long pause at the table as everyone had been frozen in mid act of eating, lifting utensils to the mouth with food or taking it away. Even Gardner was starring at the table in awe and astonishment. .
Mordin gave a meek smile and then coughed to clear his throat. He lowered his head and went back to his own tray of food. "Prefer the Patter songs, myself." he said quietly.
The others were still looking at him, most with smiles others with disbelief.
As for Shepard though easily dumbfounded at the singing scientist happily munched on her bagel and cream cheese
Well it's a start.
MEMEMEMEMEMEME
AN: Poem by poet Cristina Teodor- no intellectual copywrite intended.
AN2: I know a lot of in game dialog but sometimes it can't be avoided. And I love Mordin singing. I laugh every time.