This is the chapter I've been waiting to write for some time - the plot, Jack searching for Miranda, and Olivia, was planned out before the rest of the story started to gel in my head, before I ever put the first words of the first chapter down, so I couldn't wait to write this, and it quickly became, if you will, "epic", and I realized it was headed for 10k words so I broke it into two. I introduced the Olivia character in the Reaper Dreams Prequel, "The Omega Incident" (I've posted the first 3 chapters), though she hasn't been named yet, or her nature fully revealed.
"Science fiction films are not about science. They are about disaster, which is one of the oldest subjects of art."
Susan Sontag
February 28th, 2188
Subject Zero
Ramirez took a long drag on his cigarette, staring at Jack as if she were some insolent puppy that had just peed on his carpet. It was difficult, but she managed to keep her ego and her acerbic brand of moxy in check. Leaving his office without the information she needed would fuck her over in the worst way, send her back to the start. She'd lose Miranda's trail for good if that happened. She couldn't let it happen.
"You're here because I think the world of Kahlee Sanders," said Ramirez. "You have ten minutes of my time, so what do you want?"
Jack wasn't used to sucking up. It took everything she had to swallow her pride and fake a smile when all she really wanted to do was beat it out of him. She wasn't sure if she hated the little goatee or the fancy cigarette worse, but something about the man screamed for an ass kicking.
"I know you were one of Miranda Lawson's contacts before she disappeared. I need to know what she was looking into," she said.
Ramirez tilted his head back, forcing a thin trail of smoke from his lips. "Why?"
Jack dug into her leg with her own nails. "Because it's important, because I want to find her."
"Sounds personal," said Ramirez. "I do not like personal."
"What the f…" Jack stopped herself. "Excuse me, what do you mean by that, if I may ask?"
"This isn't a help desk. I am in the intelligence business, Ms. Nought. I trade important information with trained professionals. I have neither the inclination nor time to humor some schoolteacher looking for her girlfriend," said Ramirez.
Jack already had enough of him. "Ok, asshole, I'm done putting on my kissy face. I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but do you have any idea who you're talking to? I've been everywhere, done everything. Killed so many people I lost track, served time in the hardest joints in the galaxy, served on the Normandy, took a trip through the Omega 4 to blow the hell out of the Collectors, and I was there in London putting the hammer down on the Reapers, so don't fucking call me schoolteacher."
Ramirez let a faint smile play across his lips while he stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray. He leaned back in his chair and stared at Jack with hard eyes.
He chided her. "All too easy, Ms. Nought. You are formidable, no doubt, but I am not another Alliance secretary or bureaucrat you can intimidate, and how far has that brought you, eh? Sanders said you would be well behaved, but I knew better. It took me less than a minute to get you barking like a mad dog"
Jack snarled. "What the fuck?"
Ramirez leaned back in his chair, folding his hands so that only his fingertips and thumbs touched each other. "You fancy yourself a rebel, a real bad girl, am I right? Yes, I have seen your criminal record sheet. Very impressive, but that was then and this is a bold new galaxy. You are no longer that person, else you, a former Cerberus prisoner and test subject, would not be here at my desk begging me for information about a woman you love, who is, in fact, a former Cerberus operative."
Jack didn't have much of a comeback. "Yea, I know, it sounds crazy."
"Not really, nor is it surprising," said Ramirez. "We all stood at the brink, Ms. Nought. We looked into the abyss, thought it was over, and then we got a second chance. Many are grateful. They want to do it better. Everyone is changing their ways, leaving their old selves behind. Out there across the galaxy, everyone is wanting to fall in love or is in the process of it. Friends are becoming lovers, colleagues are becoming lovers, even old enemies are becoming lovers, and shortly afterwards, they all want children. The whole damn galaxy has gone, what is the term? Baby crazy, I believe, which is only natural, in fact it is evolutionary imperative."
Jack shook her head. "Say what?"
Ramirez shrugged. "Call it ancestral memory, subconscious will, or whatever you like. Our species, all species, must propagate and recover from the tremendous losses we sustained, thus we are all feeling the need to nest. Love is not just in the air, it is taking us all by storm. This is why I do not wish to give you the information you are after."
"Listen, asshole," said Jack. "Fuck your overcomplicated rationale, I just want to find Miranda. I have every reason to believe that Cerberus took her, and I'm not going to let them win."
"That Cerberus is involved is the only reason we are having this meeting. Why? Because the one thing in this universe that we share, Ms. Nought, is utter contempt and hatred for Cerberus," said Ramirez.
"Then why are you dicking with me?" asked Jack.
"Because I cannot trust you in the field," said Ramirez.
"I've been around," said Jack. "I'm not some fucking amateur. I've been in on some of the biggest heists and ops this galaxy has ever seen. You must know what I'm capable of, what I've done."
"Three years ago, we would not be having this conversation," said Ramirez. "I would have put you on the trail without hesitation, but that is not who you are anymore. You are, how I shall say it? Socially conscious, morally aware. You understand right from wrong. That kind of operative is only successful within the context of a team that navigates with a code or set of ethics. It does not work for the lone wolf who must be willing to shed all pretenses of morality."
Jack snapped her fingers. "I don't need no fucking team, I know how it is out there. I can turn shit on, handle whatever comes my way, and I'll do whatever it takes without having to cry about it afterwards. I don't do guilt."
Ramirez shook his head. "So you say, but you are less than convincing. I do not think you will be willing to do what is necessary. It is not as easy to go back to that life as you believe. Aside from that, you have a reckoning coming."
"A what?" asked Jack.
Ramirez leaned forward. "There is a rationale to this universe, Ms. Nought, a natural order of things—evil and good, yin and yang, light and dark. Those who have truly embraced the darkness lose themselves to the void. They've made their deposit up front, and their path to ruin is clear. However, people like you, who insist on crawling out of the abyss, have a penance to pay."
"…the fuck are you talking about?" snarled Jack.
Ramirez sighed. "We have a saying in the business: the devil always comes back for his own. Do you understand what that means?"
"I don't," said Jack. "I don't believe in any of that shit. I've made it through life on my own, doing things my way. There wasn't ever any fate, universe, or devil involved."
Ramirez withdrew a gun from his desk and cautiously set it on the table.
Jack laughed. "Are you going to threaten me, Mr. Ramirez?"
Ramirez showed his teeth. "No, I am asking if you want a clean death or a painful death. I can give you a bullet to your face, or the information you seek? Which way do you want to die?"
Jack laughed. "I'll take the information, now quit jerking me around with your melodramatic bullshit."
"As you wish," said Ramirez. "Olivia, Olivia Free."
Jack stared at him. "What is that?"
"It is a name. That was who Miranda Lawson was looking for," said Ramirez.
"So, this Olivia is a Cerberus agent?" asked Jack.
Ramirez smiled and shook his head. "No, she is a poet, a musician, a dancer, and a surrealistic painter, among other things."
"I've never even heard of her," said Jack.
"Because her work is not usually allowed to be captured by anything but the human senses. She is well known, but only in certain artistic circles. Sensory artists, aesthetically elite, cosmic bohemians, and others of a type," said Ramirez.
"I'll bite," said Jack. "Why the hell was Miranda looking for her?"
"Because she painted this," said Ramirez.
He pulled up a haptic display, indexed to an image, and turned the display to Jack. It was a bizarre painting of a young woman performing a sex act on another while an eye peered through their window, dripping a single tear.
"That's creepy as fuck and also really hot," said Jack. "It's the kind of art I might own if I ever owned art, but why would Miranda be interested in this shit? Is there some secret message or code embedded in the image?"
"No codes," said Ramirez.
"So this is all you have?" asked Jack.
"This is all I have," admitted Ramirez. "However, if you will look closely at the subject of this painting, the one on the receiving end of the…"
"You mean the girl getting off?" sneered Jack.
Ramirez adjusted the haptic display so that the image zoomed in on the subject's face.
"Holy shit," said Jack. "That looks like Shepard, I mean… yea, yea, that's supposed to be Shepard, I think."
"That was also Ms. Lawson's belief," said Ramirez.
Jack shrugged. "So what? The whole galaxy is jerking off to Shepard these days. There's even a whole series of movies."
"But this was painted in 2171," said Ramirez.
Jack stared at it again. "No shit, and she does look pretty young in this. So, this Olivia, she knew Shepard, or knew of her way back when, but what does this have to do with Cerberus?"
"Another of my contacts captured a Cerberus agent shortly after the war," said Ramirez. "The agent was seeking Olivia Free, but before he could be questioned on the matter, one of his eyes detonated."
"Fucking Mordin, that's the gift that keeps on giving," complained Jack.
Ramirez deactivated the haptic console. "Goodbye, Ms. Nought."
"If you hear anything," said Jack
Ramirez frowned. "I shall not, nor shall I hear from you, ever again."
"Whatever," she said.
Jack exited the room. At last, she had a lead. It wasn't much, but it was more than she expected.
Benning was the breadbasket of the Alliance. A colony world over twice the size of Earth, its small population coupled with automated agricultural systems had created the largest food surpluses in the galaxy. Huge granaries and storage facilities dotted the planet, and for some reason no one could understand, the Reapers hadn't destroyed them. Some Alliance brass suspected that the presence of Cerberus spared the food supplies, though others flatly denied it. No one wanted a scrap of credit to go to Cerberus for anything, and Jack was fine with that.
As soon as the Arcturus Relay opened, a mad rush for Benning ensued. The planet, which once housed just over a two million human colonists, mostly farmers, was now crowded with hundreds of millions of hungry aliens and humans hoping to find employment on a farm, or else find farmland of their own. Some were referring to the influx as the great Farm Rush. Massive tent cities and makeshift shanty towns dotted the landscape, and the planet's capital, Joughin, had become the most overpopulated city in Alliance space, perhaps even the galaxy.
Space in Joughin was at a premium, and rent was off the charts. Pre-fab apartments built for a family of four were routinely housing a dozen or more tenants. Prices were in the stratosphere, jobs were scarce, and the most unsavory dives were popping up everywhere. You could buy anything on Benning—drugs, stolen goods, illegal tech, even slaves if you knew where to look. The inhabitants of Benning joked that it was easier to find a strip club or a prostitute in Joughin than a glass of clean water.
Jack stayed clear of the water. She found herself sipping a tin of grain alcohol in a dark corner of a bar that smelled like a Vorcha's armpit. Every reference to Olivia Free that she could find referred to Benning, but that was before the Reaper Invasion. Chances were that Olivia was either dead or stuck on some world behind a broken relay, but Jack remembered the apple that Miranda brought her, and the meal she cooked. It all led back to Benning, back to this place. It wasn't much, but it was all she had.
She'd been kicking around the planet for two days, pushing around little people, handing out credits when she could, but it wasn't easy going. She'd lost her knack for connecting with the kind of people she used to roll with. Maybe Ramirez was right, maybe she couldn't go back, but what choice did she have?
'Fucking hell, Miri. Why didn't you talk to me?'
Jack knew the answer of course. If Miranda had mentioned she was tracking down a substantial Cerberus lead…
A boy's shaky voice interrupted her thought. "Are you Jack?"
The kid had slipped into the booth across from her. He couldn't have been more than sixteen years old and a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. There was a bruise on his face, a swollen lip, and the familiar vacant eyes of an opioid addict. Drugs like heroine had been out of style for a century, but they were cheap, and in desperate times it was all that most junkies could hope to score; aside from huffing industrial chemicals.
Jack steeled herself. She couldn't show weakness, not even to this poor kid.
"What the fuck do you want, boy? Are you looking to get hurt?"
He bit his lip. "If you want, I can let you, a lil' bit for fify, a lil' more for a cc, anything crazier has to go through Encia."
Jack felt sick to her stomach. She wasn't judging the kid, she'd been this kid. That's what made it worse.
"Who's Encia?" asked Jack.
The kid pointed out an Asari working the bar. She looked hard, probably an Eclipse cast off from one of the fleets. Most of the mercs that Shepard had procured from Aria T'Loak were stuck here, especially Eclipse, because the Asari military refused to make room for them on the ships they sent to repair the Exodus Relay. Forced to make it on their own, the mercs often returned to their criminal roots.
"Listen, not much interested in the first offer, but maybe you can help me out. I'm looking for someone…"
The kid got up and bolted before Jack even dropped a name.
"Fuck," she said.
It seemed that everyone on Joughin was allergic to talking. Jack pushed the cup away and left the table. She made her way out the back entrance of the bar and into an alley. Several homeless were curled up under the eaves in plastic sheets. Five of them were sharing a bottle. It was raining. She stopped for a minute to catch some drops on her tongue.
"I wouldn't do that," said a voice. "Nitrogen dioxide."
Jack turned to a man on the opposite side of the alley. She couldn't make out his face in the dark.
He leaned forward into the dim light and spoke again. "Acid rain."
"Oh, thanks," she said.
He stepped back into the darkness before speaking again. "Trash compactors, around the corner in five."
He was gone.
Jack found the trash compactors ten minutes later. The man was waiting for her.
"You're late," he said.
She shrugged. "Sorry, buddy, I don't know my way around here in the dark."
"I'd learn your way around, and fast, that is, if you want my help," said the man.
"No games," said Jack. "What's your name and what do you want."
The man stepped forward. He was a skinny guy, tall, with black skin and heavy African features.
"The name's Chico," he said. "You've been asking around about a woman named Olivia."
Jack was skeptical "You know her?"
Chico shook his head. "Never heard of her."
"Then why are you bothering me?" she asked.
"I need something, and I know people, people with information. You do something for me, I can hook you up with them," he said.
Jack laughed. "How about I just find them on my own?"
"You won't," said Chico. "Your skin is hard, but your eyes so soft. If I were you, I'd put on some shades and show more skin."
"So, now you're a fucking fashion advisor?"
"Just saying it like I see it," said Chico. "You want my help or not?"
"Depends on what you need," said Jack.
"I know who you are," said Chico. "Big alliance hero, powerful biotic. I need you to kill someone."
Jack laughed. "I have soft eyes, but you want to hire me to put someone down?"
Chico shrugged. "Soft eyes say you'll care about this, because she deserves it, Encia. You saw the kid. There are others, dozens."
"So you're what, a rival pimp?" asked Jack.
The man shook his head and lifted his shirt, exposing a chest covered in fresh scar tissue. "She got hold of my little sister. I tried to get her back. I can handle myself, but Encia is biotic. She knocked me through a wall, by the time I got out of the hospital, my sister was gone; a bad customer."
Jack was silent.
Chico nodded at the trash compactors. "That's where Encia tossed her body, about three weeks ago. I've been praying for justice ever since, and now you come to town asking questions, and come right to her place, and I got what you need. It's meant to be."
"You're pretty sure I'll do this," said Jack.
"They're children," said Chico.
"Yea," said Jack. "I got that."
Chico handed her a thin datacard. "This is where she lives. The authorities don't follow up on murders in this part of the city unless it's an Alliance rep or someone else connected or out of place. She'll close up and go out the back in two hours, usually with two bodyguards, but they ain't nothing special. Nobody here can afford the real deal anymore, not even Encia. I've marked all the routes she takes home. The other address is where I'll be when it's done."
Chico held out his hand. Jack hesitated for a moment, then took it. He nodded, then ran off into the rain. The city swallowed him in seconds. Jack waved the card near her pad and looked over the data. Ten minutes later she was walking one of Encia's routes.
'I can fucking do this, easy,' she told herself.
Sliding her hand over her M-6, she inhaled, exhaled, and thought about that kid who sat across from her. It'd been almost two years since she'd killed anything but Cerberus husks or Reapers, but this was righteous, a good way to get her feet wet, a good way to get the scent back. She'd killed dozens, maybe hundreds of mercs with Shepard, and none of them had it coming like this one did.
The more she thought about it, the better it sounded. If she did this, word would get around. Even if Chico's contacts didn't pan out, someone else might start talking. Really, she should have thought of it earlier, maybe she should have done it right there in the bar.
She'd been wasting her time for weeks, just like Ramirez said, screaming at stupid secretaries and low ranking Alliance officials who'd done nothing more than schedule Miranda's flights and meetings. All she'd managed to do was piss off Hackett and everyone else who'd cut her a break and wiped her criminal record.
'You've been a stupid asshole,' she told herself.
Maybe Ramirez was right, maybe she should have reached out to one of Shepard's people, someone like Liara, or Williams. Would they even help? She hadn't considered it. She was too new to their game, the good guys. No, it was better this way. She wasn't one of them, not really. This was familiar.
She walked the three routes in the rain. By the time she made it back to the bar, Encia was seeing herself out. Jack had picked a vantage point well out of sight. Two men were with Encia, both human. One was big, slow, the other didn't look like much. Jack waited, watching the Asari until she committed to a route. Jack was in luck, she'd chosen the one route with the location that best suited Jack's style.
She went the other way, behind a block of prefabs, up a metal latter, and across the rooftops. It was a little tricky to jump across the rooftops in the rain, but the adrenaline kept her warm. The last jump required a little biotic boost, which really gave a thrill. Jack had been working on using her biotics for mobility, especially since she'd seen the Justicar, Samara, in action. The crazy Asari could practically use her biotics to fly; talk about cool.
The alley she chose was clear, aside from three hairy dudes tripping on a hallucinogenic. Jack thought about shooing them away, but realized she didn't have time to deal with them. She decided on a straight up confrontation, no hiding or sniping. She placed herself at the back end of the alley and waited. Encia and her two men approached, all but ignoring Jack until they were close. Jack stepped into their path, blocking the way forward.
It was clear the Asari hadn't been challenged in some time. There was no fear in her eyes. She fingered the Acolyte pistol at her side and smirked. Jack's shockwave wiped the expression clean. Though Encia managed to get her barrier up in time, her two men weren't so fortunate. Jack's blow knocked them over fifteen meters down the alley. The sound of breaking bones echoed between the buildings.
Encia jabbed at Jack with a feeble biotic throw that had no chance.
"That's all you got?" asked Jack.
The Asari hurled a string of expletives and began blasting with her pistol. Jack shrugged off the inaccurate shots with ease and shredded Encia's barrier with a warp. Jack followed up by lifting the former merc into the air and unleashing another shockwave, which detonated the biotic energies encasing her and drove the Asari hard into the wall of the alley, crushing her spine and cracking her skull.
She was barely conscious when Jack closed in for the kill. She looked up at Jack through clouded eyes, blood dripping from her mouth. The Asari gasped her last breath, then worked her mouth around a word.
"Why?"
The only answer Encia received was the report of a pistol. The shot from the Carnifex splattered blue goop all over the street. One of bodyguards, who'd apparently landed badly, was choking to death on his own blood. Jack turned her back on the scene and walked away while the three hallucinating idiots screamed and ranted like madmen. She'd just given them the worst trip of their lives.
She'd put two blocks behind her, took a left turn onto another street, just as she planned, and passed a row of disabled vehicles. As soon as she cleared the last ruined hulk, her guts started to churn and she became dizzy. She tried to take a breath, but instead, gagged, then vomited, spraying all that remained of her afternoon lunch against a nearby wall. A cool sweat commingled with the wet rain on her face. She shivered.
'What the hell is wrong with you?' she wondered.
A kill like that, so just, so righteous, so straightforward—should've felt good. It had always felt good before, but not now. It felt like shit. The sight of the Asari's brains on the pavement rattled her. It was fucked up, ugly, wrong. She didn't like it.
'You've let yourself turn into some kind of pussy,' thought Jack.
Her heart was pounding as she ran several blocks back to her room, a tiny little cubby not much larger than a box. The hotel room, if it could be called that, had a fold out bunk, a toilet, and a tiny washing area with a mirror and a drain on the floor. The sink's water tap was detachable, so it could be pulled away and used as a makeshift shower. Jack peeled off her clothes and did just that.
Afterwards, she found herself staring in the mirror, wondering who it was looking back at her. The whole universe was upside down. Her life no longer made sense, she didn't make sense. For several seconds she wondered if she'd picked up a stray hit from one of the three drug users. She checked her skin for tags—nothing.
"Get your shit together, Jennifer," she said out loud.
It took her exactly three heartbeats to realize what she'd done, what she'd called herself. She stared at the woman in the mirror again. The hair stood out. It was long, attractive, and when it was styled, a tad on the conservative side. It suited a professional, a lawyer, maybe a doctor; definitely a schoolteacher. The eyes were soft, weepy, reeking of compassion. What Miranda was to her, what the kids were to her, was written all over her face.
She didn't want to go back to the creature she had been. She wanted to climb out of this fucking sewer of a city, get off this planet, and never look back, but more than that, she wanted to find Miranda. She wanted her back. The water dripping off her skin brought back the memories, the shower, the room, and all the soft whispers that passed between them. She felt herself starting to cry.
"FUCK!" she screamed, as loud as she could.
She punched the mirror, shattering it with her fist. Blood streaked off her knuckles.
The problem before her was this. She wanted Miranda back, but she couldn't pull it off, not like this, not as the person she'd become. Looking back into the shattered reflection in the mirror, she realized what she needed to do, who she needed to be. The timer on her pad beeped, reminding her of her meeting with Chico.
Jack searched her bag for a blade. Once she had her hand around it, she used the auxiliary port on her pistol to power the mass sharpener from her toolkit. With it, she honed her blade to a razor edge. It took her awhile, but she managed to find a spot on the mirror that still gave a decent reflection. Using the knife, she shredded off big chunks of her hair, throwing it into the trash. Once she got it down to a short, manageable mop, she lathered it up, and started shaving.
Five minutes later, her scalp was bare. Rubbing her hand over her smooth head, she sneered at her reflection, flipped it the bird, and posed a little. It wasn't quite right. Maybe Chico was onto something—sunglasses, a visor maybe?
Staring at her clothes, she grabbed the military style pants she'd packed, but never intended to wear. She put them on, then laced up her boots. She rummaged through some shirts, a few jackets, and then stopped herself and grabbed a belt instead. She buckled up, slipped her gun into its holster, and stared into the mirror again.
Holstering, and unholstering the weapon, she managed a barrage of posturing that was damn near intimidating. The bare chest was working a little bit. She pinched her nipples, turned sideways, and thrust her small breasts out with bravado. It was all there, she looked the part, but the problem was, she didn't feel it. It felt like she'd forced herself into an old piece of clothing that was a little too tight, that she'd outgrown years ago. She wanted to put on a shirt and a jacket, but she fought the compulsion.
"Fuck it, I'm doing this," she said out loud, trying to convince herself that it was working.
She was out the door seconds later, running off to meet with Chico, running from herself.
Next: Mirror Mirror (Part 2)