Author's Note: I have not forgotten poor Garrus. However, I am experimenting with format and you are all my guinea pigs. ^_^ What we're going to do for the next few chapters is run through a gamut of perspectives and events that occur over a relatively short span of time (since I was never too clear on how long Garrus was on his own, sniping off the bag guys) rather than run through one plot segment, go back and run through someone else's, rinse, wash, and repeat.
As the next few chapters unfold, those of you who are willing might let me know how this fragmented perspective, relatively-close timeframe setup works for you, or if it's just *too* broken-up. I'd appreciate the feedback.
Anyway, pressing on…
-J-
Commander Eva Rogers stood at attention with such attention to precision that she could have modeled for an Alliance handbook of comportment. "Our new orders, intercepted by Ms. Sato, are as vague as ever. We're to be chasing around the Terminus Systems on observational missions, and information we gather is to be distributed to various Alliance personnel who will handle the follow up or clean up as necessary."
That was what she told Capt. Art Cameron. He would be, if it were not for the Corsair program, considered ROAD. However, such a description did not work in the arguably 'civilian' world.
The man's obliviousness was truly astounding. What he did not know would fill several terabytes of information at the very least. The salient points included the fact that he was 'captain' in name only—she was the one running the show, and as long as nothing bothered him and as long as he perks of being captain were maintained he was happy to let his capable XO do her job and work on that ridiculous manuscript he called his memoirs.
Let him take credit for her doings: it might come in handy sometime. Let someone bring some kind of charge against her and she could effectively say, 'didn't Capt. Cameron say that was his directive?'.
The next point was that, although the Alliance might have eyes on the Queen Victoria, she, Rogers, had neatly—though with some trouble—extricated herself from all but the most tenuous threads of restraint. Effectively she was running her own operation on her own terms, free to pursue her own interests.
And her interests were too widespread to permit her to pay doglike loyalty to any one entity for very long. It was a risky thing, and if any of several individuals realized that she really was playing ends against the middle…well, that was why she did it. They couldn't all turn on her at once and if they did she'd vanish while they scuffled over the privilege of drawing and quartering her.
Her real Alliance orders were interdictory actions against the usual scum of the galaxy. Sato had adjusted them judiciously before bringing them to Rogers, who would then present them to the captain. It was the sort of mission that she liked best: delicate, requiring a subtle and conniving mind.
The real orders came from The Agency—she never permitted herself to use the proper name, lest it somehow slip in an unforeseeable moment of inattention.
Pavo—or so he called himself—had elicited information like that on several occasions. Harmless details, but details nonetheless. That had been very early on, and much amused him.
If only he knew how loose his lips were, which was astounding for someone in his position…and for someone who didn't have 'lips' to begin with.
"…and our first objective?"
She missed most of Cameron's remark, but the pertinent part came through her preoccupation. She'd been with Cameron long enough to be able to tune in and out without missing important information. "We've got a facility that shouldn't exist. Our orders are to perform reconnaissance then forward our findings to…" she cued her omnitool, "…our contact is Commander Sheffler." For very good reason, although Cameron didn't know why. Rogers repressed a grim smile only because of long years of doing just that. The orders had come through several days ago—though she suspected that the facility had been waiting idly for someone to trip over it for longer than that.
The Agency bringing Shepard back did not surprise her. They were good at getting results.
She thought she saw what the Upper Echelon was up to. There was no other reason she could see that necessitated that particular facility falling into the hands of Agency-hunter number one. Of course, that was just the beginning. She was, effectively, playing the part of the ventriloquist: people would hear her but they would see Shepard, and only Shepard.
And it appealed to her to have that broken paragon chasing a woman who didn't have the sense to see her own potential.
"Sheffler? Commander Sheffler? You know him, don't you?" Cameron asked, his eyes brightening with interest.
"We've met several times, Captain. He's a very capable soldier." And once Sheffler found whatever the scrub team (or evidence-planting team) had left at the Facility, he would be hot on Shepard's trail. He would scream until he was blue that if Shepard was with the Agency it was an allegiance change. He was zealot enough to simply shoot her on the spot.
Rogers would be disappointed if he managed to do that, but she didn't think he could pull it off.
It also helped that she had another card to play that few people knew about: she'd used Sheffler to some effect on defectors. It was astounding how easy hatred was to manipulate. If only her asset knew the Agency—whom he hated so much—was using him.
"If I may, there is one other thing." If one buttered Cameron's dignity and sense of self-importance one could get away with murder.
"Yes, Commander?"
"Lt. Carson's wife is getting ready to have a baby—their first. Now, he hasn't approached me, but I know that he would like very much to see her, and I know that you intended to give the crew a bit of liberty. I was hoping we might be able to use one to make the other happen. Carson's very conscientious and I would hate to lose him…but he's very distracted, given that this is his first. I was thinking that we might swing back around to get him a couple weeks after the happy event?"
"Carson is a good man—saved my life, once…"
Rogers turned out the babble: she wanted Carson gone, as he represented the last of Cameron's original picks, the last person she had not brought on board.
With Carson gone the crew was hers to a man.
One never knew when that might be useful.
