Hiya! MotM is also now being published on AO3, if you'd prefer to read it there. I'm not a huge fan of the site and I'm way too lazy to go through all the hassle, but this complete mad lad by the name of obeyingthemuse asked me if it was okay for him to upload it there and I said yes. So if you prefer reading on AO3 then perhaps consider checking it out and giving obeyingthemuse a kudos and comment.
Thanks obeyingthemuse!
Also, proofread and edited chapters 1-10 again just now on ffnet and spacebattles, but those changes won't be on AO3 yet.
Sorry, obeyingthemuse, for doubling your workload :V
;
Kyle exhaled, exiting the shuttle with heavy steps.
It had been one meeting after another. Accusations, questions, and threats were all hurled his way, but he had weathered through it all somehow. He couldn't even remember anymore what he had been thinking when he had called the Alliance Intelligence Agency on Arcturus Station—hot anger and blinding fury having burned out, leaving him only with a sense of bone-deep weariness.
At least the asari had made it out alive, that much he could hold up his head with pride about at least.
Or was that just what he told himself now, having used that as his excuse before his superiors over why he had gone over their heads the way he had. Perhaps he couldn't hold Shepard's indiscretions over her head any longer, given how he no longer held any claim to a spotless loyalty towards the Navy as a whole.
He had been able to attend the meetings wearing the hardsuit he had donned while boarding the asari cruiser, a thing he now felt incredibly thankful for as the suit's internal heat management system kept his body temperature regulated despite his nervous sweating. A dress uniform's back would have been slick and sticky with sweat by now, he knew.
All he wanted was a hot shower and a bed to crash down into.
Everything could wait until he woke up and maybe, hopefully, it wouldn't feel quite so crazy any more then.
"Major Kyle. I am glad to see you again," a female voice said stopping him in his tracks.
Arnaut looked up, swallowing heavily with trepidation and expectation. And true enough there was an asari standing there, apparently in wait for him.
"Shiala... was it?" he began slowly and she nodded, smiling winningly at his remembering her name. He blinked, forgetting what he had been about to say and shook his head a little, figuring that he was more tired than he had thought. "Oh, err, w-what are you doing here...?"
"I wanted to thank you, for coming to our rescue the way you did. I heard from the other soldiers how you defied your superior's orders and stormed onto the cruiser, ordering everyone to come to our aid," she said, almost gushing and squirming in place.
"Err..."
"You're so brave... I just couldn't let it go, I just had to come and thank you myself," she continued, stepping forward with every word until she was within an arm's reach of him.
"That's, how did you even get here...? None of the asari should have been evacuated here..." Kyle wondered, turning around to stare at the shuttles suspiciously. None of the shuttle pilots would have flown her here without authorization from above... Would they...?
Kyle shook his head; he was much too tired for this right now. "Look, ma'am, you are not supposed to be here. Let me escort you back to the other asari, and..."
His omnitool chimed with a priority message, disrupting his thoughts. Frowning, he muttered an apology and opened it. Blinking, he read and re-read the message. There was an urgent top-priority request—or command, rather—from Arcturus Station for him to contact the Alliance Intelligence Agency's head office. Immediately, that was.
He groaned, rubbing at his temples. He really, really did not want to deal with this now.
"Major, you appear very stressed. Is there anything I can do for you? Perhaps I may prepare for you an energizing beverage—coffee, I believe you call it? I have recently familiarized myself with making it, you see?"
Kyle frowned. He really shouldn't...
But it would allow him to keep an eye on her until he could escort her wasn't like he could see any useful grunts anywhere nearby on whom he could shove this asari.
"...Fine. Black, no sugar. But we'll have to get it from the vendor, I need to run and make this call as soon as possible."
Shiala smiled demurely. "Do not worry. With my biotics, preparing it will take no time at all."
;
"Logged: The commanding officer is aboard. Chief Engineer Adams stands relieved."
Anderson exhaled as he set foot aboard his ship, nodding at the saluting shuttle maintenance crew as he did. Marching quickly, he made it to his office in short order. Sitting down with a heavy sigh, he stared at his workspace for a minute before he finally shook his head and turned on the terminal.
With his XO out of commission, he couldn't simply delegate internal ship matters as usual. The asari had to be moved and the other ships would have to be informed of the additional passengers they would be receiving, after which he would inquire as to whether or not he was to take on any additional wounded, and...
His omnitool chimed.
Glancing down and spotting the incoming call from Shepard, Anderson hesitated.
He had been wasting time with busywork, trying to push back having to face Shepard while he tried to figure out his own thoughts. Adams was acting Executive Officer with Shepard wounded; had been designated so even before they arrived, with how entwined his lieutenant had been with planning the Torfan operation. The engineer had been handling duty rosters and other internal matters for a week already and was more than capable of coordinating with other Alliance ships when it came to moving passengers around.
All it would have taken was a notification to Adams, to inform the acting-XO of matters.
With a grunt, Anderson accepted the call.
"Captain Anderson speaking," he answered.
There was a short moment of silence before he heard Shepard's reply. "Captain, it's Shepard. Could we, uh, talk for a bit?"
His heart jumped in his chest for a second and he wasn't sure why. He coughed, buying himself some time even though he already knew his answer. Wasn't this exactly what he had promised the Admiral he would do? To have a private talk with Shepard?
"Of course. Where are you?"
And immediately as he said it, he worried that perhaps he had been too forward. If she truly was dealing with the likes of that Spectre and Alliance Intelligence, who knew how she would react...
"I'm on my way to your office now," she replied instantly, to Anderson's wonder. Wasn't she still in medical? It was hard to believe that Chakwas would have let the lieutenant walk around just yet. "I'll be there in a few minutes, captain."
"Very well. Anderson out," he said somewhat brusquely and closed the omnitool.
Standing up from his chair, he paced back and forth for a minute as he tidied up his office with nervous energy. Checking his appearance and uniform a few times until he finally shook his head and forced himself to sit down behind his desk to wait for Shepard to arrive.
The door opened and he looked up, blinking twice at the sight of Shepard in the wheelchair. Frowning, he asked, "Did Chakwas give you leave already...?"
She looked away guiltily before clearing her throat.
"No. But one of the orderlies did when I told him I had to meet with the Captain," the lieutenant confessed. "May I come in, sir?"
Anderson nodded and she entered, the door closing behind her. Looking down, he tapped a prompt on the terminal and locked the door to make sure they would not be bothered. Looking back up, he extended a hand and almost bid her to take a seat on one of the chairs in front of his desk. Then, realizing how awkward that would be he cleared his throat and stood up to make some room for her wheelchair by setting the regular chairs aside.
Then, sitting back down he crossed his fingers and looked at her, suddenly at a loss for words.
Looking up, he somehow felt relieved to note that Shepard seemed just as nervous before remembering just why he had wished to talk to her. At the same time, there was a niggling question in the back of his mind—a part wondering just why she would be nervous now?
Had she realized that the Admiral suspected her?
Was she in so deep in some twisted conspiracy that the pressure was getting to her? Anderson couldn't believe that she would willingly betray them. The Navy. Him. Surely if he could just get her to open up, he could understand how this had all come to pass...
"Captain, there was something I wanted to talk to you about..." Shepard began, catching Anderson off guard.
He blinked and then nodded gravely, thinking that perhaps this was it. "Of course, lieutenant." Then, realizing that he needed to reassure her, he changed tack. "Shepard."
She blinked, then a wide, wide smile spread over her face as she nodded. Looking down, she silently considered what to say as he patiently waited for her to begin, worrying that she might well grow skittish if he tried to pressure her.
"Do you remember years back, when we first met, that fire on Mars?"
Anderson raised his brows, suddenly feeling as if he had completely lost the thread in this conversation. "Mars...?" he repeated quizzically.
"I had just been accepted to N-school and then my friend from bootcamp had suddenly gone missing. We—that is, you allowed me to come along—flew to Mars to try and find him, only for the trail to end at that house that had burned down," she explained, gesticulating with her hands as she did. Pausing to consider, she seemed thoughtful. "Or maybe 'melted down' would be a better description..."
Blinking again, he nodded with a slight frown. He did vaguely remember such events, the fire and death reminding him of that Spectre once again. It had been years ago; it was no wonder that he had completely forgotten about that event. Looking up at Shepard before him, Anderson felt something click into place.
So that's why she's tangled up in all of this... The captain thought regretfully.
He remembered how shook he had been on that flight back as well as his own feelings of helplessness at seeing her so broken. She had come a long way since then, yet still, it seemed that the death of her friend haunted her. It was little wonder then that she had reacted as she had after the Skyllian Blitz; the loss of another friend would have weighed even more heavily on her conscience. He understood those feelings well, being no stranger to loss, and having seen comrades and civilians alike die before.
But it was no good for her to be so hung up on such things, especially if it had led her to become tangled with the AIA.
Sighing, he nodded for her to continue, already expecting how this conversation would play out and trying to think of how to best convince her to trust in him again.
"So, you can imagine my surprise when it turns out he's still alive...!" Shepard exclaimed, animatedly throwing up her arms in the wheelchair.
Anderson blinked, furrowing his brows as he tried to process what he had just heard. "What?"
"Yeah!" she agrees excitedly before sighing explosively. "I thought that, too! He didn't even think to tell me that he was fine, or anything. Just flew off to who-knows-where and then comes back when I think he's been dead for years."
Raising a hand to cover his mouth, Anderson worked his jaw as he tried to understand what she was saying now. Somehow it felt like she was venting at, rather than confessing to him. "I see..." Pausing, he tried to remember the name of that recruit. But the detail escaped his memory, even as he realized that it would still mean that Shepard had been in contact with a deserter. "Shepard, are you certain that it is him?"
It had been years. And she couldn't have known the man for very long if they had met in bootcamp. Certainly, friendships that formed in basic tended to run very deeply given how shocking an experience for those used to civilian life. But surely she might have made a mistake, or someone was fooling her.
The tan captain shook his head again, clearing his thoughts as he tried to bring this conversation back on track.
"When did he approach you?" he asked.
If he assumed that this was the work of the Alliance Intelligence Agency—for who else could have access to the information and resources necessary to convincingly have someone pretend to be Shepard's long-dead friend?—then he needed to know when she had been approached. For what purpose would they have gone through all that trouble?
An immediate candidate sprung to mind; the Alliance Intelligence Agent who had made sure to keep his face hidden earlier. The man who had been secretly working with Shepard since before Torfan.
"He didn't." Shepard scoffed with obvious offense. "I had to chase him down to get my leg broken by him, before he even bothered to notice that it was me."
What?
What?
"What?"
Shepard shook her head as if she couldn't believe it either. Blowing a strand of hair brushing at the side of her brow, she frowned then. "That's not important, though. I can vent at him later; I should explain what he was doing down on Torfan."
Anderson froze, the implications of her words not quite making sense in his head. Or rather, her words themselves failed to make any sense to him.
"You approached him? On Torfan?"
"I thought he was the guy who I had thought had kidnapped him on Mars, but he, uh..." She blinked, suddenly lost in her own words as she tried to make what was in her head come out half-way coherently. "I thought he was the mysterious guy who showed up on the security cameras from Ares Station, and he was, I think...? But he had also been kidnapped...?" She paused again, crossing her arms and furrowing her brows, deep in thought now. "Wait, but how does that work?"
Anderson waited patiently as the seconds ticked by. But she looked no closer to having any idea what she was talking about.
Finally, she looked up with frustration shining through. "Emiya, what the hell? If you got kidnapped and then broke free, but had to fly to get your brain fixed, why—and how—did you get back to Ares Station?"
Not understanding who or what she was talking to or about, Anderson had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Wasn't this exactly what the AIA agent had been talking about? Indoctrination, he thought the word with heavy heart. She had been down on Torfan, in the thick of things, and then aboard the asari cruiser just as everything had gone to hell.
It made more sense to Anderson than her being a spy, now, given the apparent sheer incoherence coming out of her mouth.
What had the agent said about handling those who had been indoctrinated? That there was no cure?
He swallowed slowly, his collar somehow pressing all-too-tightly against his throat now. Surely there was something that could still be done; she was just confused, perhaps she wouldn't turn violent. The video footage he had been shown flashed through his mind. One asari turning on another at the drop of a hat.
"It's complicated and doesn't really matter. Besides, where are you even going with this?"
Anderson jumped out of his seat at the familiar voice, his head turning left and right as he tried to find the agent who had suddenly spoken up. "Where...?"
"Captain?" Shepard seemed about ready to jump out of her wheelchair at his sudden movement, staring at him with wide-eyes. "It's just Emiya. He's talking through the terminal," she said and pointed at the desk.
He blinked and looked down, staring with suspicion at his terminal that for all intents and purposes appeared to be turned off. But then, as if sensing his gaze, it turned on by itself. As if someone had hacked the computer and had been listening in the whole time.
"How...?" Not even Alliance Intelligence should have access to his personal terminal.
"We can't just drop all of this on him without some context, Emiya." Shepard shook her head. "I barely believe it myself and I've been through most of it."
He focused on his still-seated lieutenant, frowning as he spoke gravely. "How is he doing this?"
"He's—Emiya, that is—some kind of super hacker. The one that was on Thessia and slipped past half the asari fleets just a few days ago."
"It's actually been over a week," the voice from the terminal corrected.
Shepard frowned, staring at the source for a long second. "Why are you doing a voice?"
There a moment of awkward silence, before the third voice coughed.
Anderson blinked as the voice behind the terminal replied, "It was a disguise," with another long-suffering sigh. His head spun as he realized that he had no idea what was going on anymore. If Shepard wasn't indoctrinated, then—or rather, was that even a credible phenomenon if the one who had told them about it wasn't even an Alliance Intelligence Agent?—or was she a spy, after all, or...?
Or was he?
Numb with confusion, the captain all but collapsed back into his chair.
"Captain Anderson, it's nice to make your acquaintance. Unfortunately, it could not be in person, but that's hardly a hurdle," the voice through the terminal spoke. "As Shepard hopefully tried to explain before getting side-tracked."
"How... How are you doing this...?" Anderson staggered. "The terminal—no, this entire ship should be equipped with the latest in counter-electronic warfare. This shouldn't be possible."
"He's actually on board the ship right now, captain," Shepard helpfully provided, but only managing to alarm him more. "He's being patched up by the doctor right about now."
Frowning, the captain stared at her with the beginnings of outrage. "Onboard the Tokyo? Right now?"
On his ship? Without his knowledge or permission?
Perhaps realizing that, Shepard seemed to pull back away from him with wide eyes. Seeking to reason with him and defend bringing someone aboard his vessel, she tried to explain. "He got hurt helping the asari escape and he doesn't have anywhere else to go, captain."
"Aboard the—but he was..."
Anderson shook his head, unable to understand anything right now, only certain of the anger bubbling forth from his gut at being left completely in the dark like this. With a last fierce glare to the terminal, he moved around the table and past Shepard.
"Captain?" she asked, startled by his sudden movements. "Where are you going...?"
"I don't know what you have gotten yourself into, lieutenant, but I won't stand for anyone to sneak aboard my ship," he replied testily as he marched towards the door. He would head straight for the elevator and take the on-duty armed guards with him. "We can continue this discussion—whatever it is—in the brig."
"S-sir...?!" Shepard yelped, turning the chair in an effort to follow him.
But just as he was about to reach the door the lights in his office went out, plunging them into near-darkness. Blinking, he staggered and looked up at the lights. Then as he realized that the door before him wasn't opening, he tried to push the glowing haptic switch in the center to open it manually. The proximity sensor should have opened it already...
But the glowing red circle signifying the door remaining locked and the cool material of the door itself was all that he was met with.
Anderson frowned, glaring at the door now. "Ship's computer: open captain's office door."
"I'm sorry David, I'm afraid I can't do that."
The captain blinked as he stepped back from the glowing red dot before him, incomprehension and incredulity warring for supremacy.
"Emiya...?" Shepard behind him asked, sounding now much less certain.
"It looks like this won't work out, Shepard. But, well... I kind of expected that already," the voice spoke wearily.
Turning around to stare at the lieutenant and the still-glowing terminal display at his desk, where the voice was coming through, Anderson began to realize that he might have made a terrible mistake just now.
He had thought the appearance of that asari hacker who had escaped earlier very strange. It had seemed to come out of nowhere, that final bit of excitement with the asari cruiser after Major Kyle had begun to evacuate the asari off the near-derelict starship. He had excused it as some strange bit of asari politics, perhaps some old alliance or friendship the Terror of Thessia had sought out for shelter.
But if it wasn't an asari at all, but rather a human being who had moved to Thessia after deserting the Alliance Navy, then...
"This Emiya..." Anderson began to ask, too incredulous to remain quiet. "He's that 'Redhax'...?"
Shepard nodded, her expression of worry barely visible in the dim light of his office.
"Don't worry," the hacker in question said. "Doctor Chakwas has just finished with the skin graft cultivation. This will be all over in a few hours. I'll be gone in a few hours and that'll be that."
For a moment Anderson considered shouting; the guards posted just outside would hear him through just the door, surely, if he just shouted loud enough. But what would that accomplish? This was Redhax, he realized with trepidation. He hadn't looked personally into what had transpired on Thessia, but the waves that the event had made were clear to even him.
The Citadel had mobilized everything it could short of a whole fleet and it hadn't even slowed him down. What could he and a couple of armed guards do?
"Wait, Emiya..." Shepard floundered, still trying to turn the chair around.
Anderson realized then, that somehow his lieutenant had managed to talk to her old friend and connect with him. That was the only way this situation made sense to him.
He had thought that perhaps Shepard had been fooled before, but now he realized that made no sense. Someone like Redhax wouldn't even need to bother with something that convoluted. The fact that he had completely out-witted the Alliance fleet here and had effectively taken this starship without anyone else realizing was proof enough of the man's competence. No, this set-up only made sense if it really and truly was her friend behind that terminal, humoring her for the sake of that friendship.
The captain simply could not conceive in this instant how things had gotten here otherwise. He looked at her, shame hitting him as a heavy wave as he realized he had allowed his temper to lead him—and worse yet, her—astray.
"Shepard, I..." he began, words of something budding on the tip of his tongue. But as their eyes met all thoughts were blown away.
It was like she was realizing that she had to do something, a moment of pure transformation. As if she was sloughing off shackles and donning a mantle of confidence.
"Captain, do you trust me?" she asked. "Have I ever done anything to make you believe that I had anything other than the best intentions at heart before?"
He shook his head numbly and she nodded.
"Then please, sit down and trust me. You can count on me to always do the right thing, sir."
He nodded again and staggered back to his chair, not quite sure why. At the same time, she glared at the terminal.
"Emiya cut the crap. You're just throwing a tantrum and embarrassing me right now."
Anderson almost tripped over his chair at those words. He stared at his lieutenant with wide eyes, suddenly not too sure whether trusting her was the right choice after all, given that the first thing she did was antagonize their effective captor. The silence was deafening for a long moment, the stillness permeating the room so strongly that Anderson could hardly breathe.
"Now are we gonna talk this out, or are we going to continue acting like drama queens?"
"Well, if you're going to put it like that, I'm almost inclined to keep going just to prove that I can."
"But you won't," Shepard said confidently, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat to wait.
Then, the door behind Shepard unlocked itself, the red circle turning green before the lights in the room flashed back on again. Blinking with surprise at the returned brightness, Anderson gawked. In turn, his protege merely nodded with satisfaction. But he could see the nervousness in her eyes; this had been a close call.
Noticing his staring, she took a deep breath and then continued.
"This is about the meeting you had with the other officers, about kshirae. Emiya noticed something was amiss on Mars, years ago, when he investigated the Prothean ruins on his own. Something which led him to Thessia," Shepard explained, pausing for breath. "He intended to study the Protheans there, to better understand his findings. But because of his past and his reputation catching up to him and stuff... Well, Thessia happened. I'm not really sure why, but it did."
Anderson blinked.
He chose to ignore the unfamiliar word, for now, suspecting it was merely another word for indoctrination—which suggested that Shepard hadn't been told everything—and instead focusing more on what she had said about Redhax's motivations.
She made it all seem so innocent, somehow.
Frowning, he couldn't help but question her narrative before she could continue. "The Citadel mobilized the Spectres and the salarians, just because he was looking into the Protheans? I don't believe that. I can't believe that." He scoffed then, remembering something more. "In fact, more than one news outlet seems convinced that you are some kind of black market information dealer and mercenary out to destabilize the galactic economy." Shepard opened her mouth to reply, but he didn't give her time as he finished his thought. "And that was before he dropped a space dock from orbit onto the asari homeworld!"
He realized he had grown heated again, exhaling hotly through his nostrils as he leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest now, matching her pose.
The lieutenant in the wheelchair said nothing, only frowning minutely. Then, she prompted the terminal. "Well, Emiya?"
"...Shepard told the truth more or less. Kshirae turned out to be something else; we're calling the phenomenon 'indoctrination' for now, but it is a very real danger," the hacker began. "But there is more to the Citadel's actions than just that. In fact, I doubt they know anything substantial of my actions on Mars or my studies on Thessia," Redhax answered, surprising Anderson with his apparent candor. His eyes were drawn to Shepard again as he listened to the voice coming through the terminal. "And while I have been active over the past few years in my—shall we call it—cyber-vigilantism... I believe the bulk of the Citadel's interest in me comes from my previous, and direct, dealings with them."
Shepard frowned. "That wasn't in the file you gave me..."
"It wasn't a publicly acknowledged event," he excused. "I compiled that using some quick stuff that I was able to scrounge up on the extranet. You won't find any mentions of the events I'm talking about now, on the extranet. The STG would have worked hard to erase any evidence of their failure, I'm sure." There was a hint of smugness there, the tan captain noted. Then again, from the sound of it, perhaps he did have plenty of reason to be smug. Very few in the galaxy could boast having gotten one over the Special Tasks Group and getting away with it. "It has to do with why I had to leave Mars. I made a bargain with them for a life-saving operation. The 'brain problem', I mentioned before."
"You cheated the STG on a deal?" Anderson asked, blinking.
"We both stuck to the letter of our agreement. I merely preemptively made myself scarce before they could inform me that our deal had not included any stipulations for my freedom or safety afterward." Shepard snorted at that, shaking her with rueful amusement. "The information I handed to them as payment—while completely true—was also of much lesser value than I had initially led them to believe. So I suspect their intentions for me are just as much professional as they are personal, at this point."
His lieutenant was now grinning, quite amused by the idea of such one-upmanship. She had always had a competitive and flashy streak.
Anderson was beginning to see how she had cultivated a friendship of sorts with the hacker, based on these similarities.
"Much of what I've done since has been simply due to situations that I could not ignore."
"What do you mean?" Anderson asked, focusing anew on the conversation, unable to connect that sentence with the image of the infamous hacker from the news. How did the person who was investigating the Protheans on Thessia while hiding from the STG mesh with the supposed terrorist who was destabilizing the galactic economy?
The gap between those two extremes was still too great for Anderson to bridge.
"If you could save a life with the press of a button, would you do it?" the hacker asked.
Realizing that it was not a rhetorical question after a second of silence, the captain considered it seriously.
"I would," he finally declared. Real-life wasn't that simple and he was sure the man would justify his actions with more reasons, but Anderson could not disagree with that as a basis. "But surely it can't be that simple."
"Most of the time it is," Redhax denied. "According to the letter of the law, anyhow. Everywhere I look, I see these buttons. Simple decisions where the choices are to either act or to ignore it altogether."
"But..." Anderson began, wanting to argue the point, only realize that there was no way he could work within the system if he had antagonized the salarians and the Citadel so. In fact, wasn't it the Redhax signature that it could not be traced to anyone? The lack of evidence becoming evidence? "Then what about the news about you engaging in information deals and corporate espionage?"
It was mostly curiosity that now fueled his questions, rather than antagonism or an attempt at denying the man's actions. He simply was not familiar enough with the man or his actions to mount any kind of true criticism yet.
"News agencies play their tunes to the beat provided by their shareholders and donors. Whenever I blew open a cartel or a credit washing operation or what-have-you, they would hastily cover it up by any means necessary. And on top of that, it's not all me. A year back I had to spend as much time on countering the attempts of copycats and false-flags using my 'name', as actually 'pushing buttons'. Most of them were hired by those same parties—or their ilk whom I had yet to get to—in an attempt to drum up public opposition against me," the hacker explained with a disdainful scoff. "Eventually they realized I wasn't going to stop and they were starting to run out of credits and social capital, so they tried to wash their hands by re-branding, trying to pretend nothing had happened. But at that point—those who hadn't been already been caught, anyhow—began running afoul of corporate law in a dozen systems with their rapid downsizing." He chuckled now. "At that point, I was even employing lawyers from the same firms as they were to comb over the details for various unions. A real shitshow all-around."
Shepard seemed to draw a vicious pleasure from what she was hearing, Anderson noticed, no doubt remembering her own run-ins with the press after the Skyllian Blitz.
"I see..." Anderson said neutrally, hesitating to say anything more. It really was just the hacker's word against the collective word of the various galactic news organizations.
The voice from the terminal paused and then as if only just remembering a detail he had forgotten to mention, he continued in a much more serious tone of voice. "And what happened on Thessia was somebody else. I certainly am complicit in how far things escalated there and knew the owner of the orbital station from before, I was not a part of what happened there. Not until the end, when it was already falling and needed to be stopped, anyhow."
"Then who did it?"
"...I don't know. Not yet anyhow. It seems like everyone was blindsided, and in the chaos of the aftermath there just wasn't time to investigate. The trail appeared lost, given how damaged the Thessian information infrastructure was by that point."
A somber silence descended upon the room, pressing down on any further questions.
Until now, Anderson hadn't known what to think of the hacker, but he was beginning to get a better picture of him. He could now see quite clearly how Shepard had managed to befriend the man, even if the idea still boggled the mind. It was also apparent that despite his notoriety, the man wasn't all-powerful.
At the moment, the captain wasn't sure what to feel about that revelation. Because it might be a closer thing than anyone will be comfortable with...
Finally, having gathered his thoughts, he asked the question foremost on his mind, "Then why all this?"
What did they want with him?
At that, Shepard looked uncomfortable. But she forged on. "It's because of what happened on the asari cruiser, with the asari that the batarians had kidnapped."
"Indoctrination?" he asked, suddenly realizing that he had again forgotten about the matter in the recent confusion. "So it's real?" he asked with furrowed brows.
"Yes."
Closing his eyes, Anderson inhaled deeply as he slumped into his chair. That did not change much; it merely confirmed things. He still wasn't sure how much he could trust the hacker, but as with his earlier suspicions regarding Shepard being tricked, it simply did not make sense to assume this was a ploy anymore. Perhaps the AIA had some ulterior motive with distracting the Navy brass with new protocols, performing some fell deeds or deals out of sight.
But if it was just one man who had put together everything he had been presented with at the meeting?
It didn't seem reasonable. Surely a hacker of his talents could achieve a hypothetical, more nefarious goal, though much simpler and more efficient means if he put his mind to it than that?
"Do you expect there to be more cases in the future?" Anderson asked gloomily.
"...Probably. I'm not the only one who believes it to be a possibility. At the very least, it's better to be prepared."
Sighing, the captain nodded. Then, not certain if the gesture had been seen he voiced his understanding. "I see."
"I thought it was important to introduce you two, captain, because I might not be able to remain in the Alliance Navy for long," Shepard explained.
That got his attention, before he was reminded of his own secret mission. "I see. So you were the Alliance Intelligence Agent after all, Shepard." He sighed heavily with equal disappointment and frustration.
She merely nodded, unashamed despite being caught out.
"And the hearing on Arcturus Station is so that they can pressure you to report back in person," he continued and she nodded again. "What do they want to know?" he probed.
Shepard grimaced. "I approached them because I wanted to find out what had happened to Emiya—why it was covered up and why none of it seemed to make any sense..." she explained, glaring for a frustrating moment at the terminal that remained studiously silent. "And the AIA opened doors that I didn't even know existed before. They asked very little and it felt like I was helping pass vital information along," she said and shrugged. "Sometimes I would notice something that I had reported making it to guidelines and reports that we got from Arcturus Station. Things related to the batarians and pirates..."
Her words trailed off.
"But now it seems obvious they only approached me to set a trap for Emiya," she finished with an annoyed expression, hitting her palm with her fist to vent her frustration. "Now that they think he's approached me, they're recalling me."
"To spring a trap on him, or to hold you hostage..." Anderson agreed. Then, he shook his head as he met Shepard's eyes again. "I warned you about them, Shepard."
Anderson never took pleasure in having had foreknowledge of such things, especially when it affected those he knew personally. But he had told her so. She could only nod and shrug, having decided then that the risks had been worth it at the time.
"I see. So that's how it was." Anderson blinked, surprised with how amused the hacker sounded. Then, with no minor dread, the captain realized what was coming. "Fine. Let them spring their 'trap'. I've lain low for long enough, so why not take this opportunity to turn it back around on them?"
"Whoa, hold on a minute Emiya," Shepard interjected. "The whole point of this is to make allies, right? There's no point in getting tangled up in a stupid fight if you don't have to, right?"
"And if they intend to burn you that would remove one of said allies from my side, making them an enemy, no?"
She hesitated at the logic, then shook her head. "That's why you should work with Captain Anderson—he can't be burned by them, not easily at least, and he's a senior officer and he's much better connected with the rest of the Navy than I am. If he took this to Admiral Hackett, then—"
"And risk having the Citadel make the wrong—or perhaps right, depending on how you look at it—conclusions from that?" Redhax countered calmly.
Shepard paused, frowning as she processed his words, effectively allowing him to continue.
"In fact, a very public humiliation of the Alliance like that might even do them good diplomatically. I certainly don't intend to hold back on any Earth-based corporations while in the neighborhood. Why would I make an exception for the Systems Alliance itself, then?"
Anderson felt a cold shiver of dread run down his spine as he heard the confident proclamation.
While the Systems Alliance was by no means perfect, he had still taken oaths to protect it from enemies within and without. It was more than mere words; it was a duty to which he had dedicated his whole life to. A solemn oath he truly believed in.
Perhaps the hacker meant well and could accomplish much good with his talents and proactivity, assuming that his stated motivations were true and Shepard's trust was not misplaced. But that didn't mean he had the unilateral right to simply do it; it wasn't merely buttons and simple binary decisions, no matter how much he would insist on it. The more such an outsider intervened to fix something in the system, the more the whole would begin to fall apart as those who chose to abide by and live within it—for whatever reason—would begin to lose faith and seek alternatives.
It could unravel the very fabric of the social contract.
But he held his tongue in check, suppressing the urge to speak up as he forced himself to think, having suddenly grown a healthy understanding of the headaches the various operatives of the Citadel and the asari of Thessia must have had from dealing with Redhax.
He couldn't oppose the hacker. Not directly and most likely not covertly either, given the sheer disparity in their abilities. Even at square one, how much they knew about each other differed so greatly that any conflict would be over before it even began. Redhax could observe Anderson every hour of every day without his knowledge, while the tan captain couldn't even so much as say whether the other was aboard his own damn ship. That humiliating—or perhaps, humbling, if he wished to sound less self-deprecating—realization had to temper all of his actions going forward.
Shepard made an annoyed sound of protest, trying to think of a response as she crossed her arms confrontationally, no doubt experiencing similar thoughts as he was currently. Worse yet, she had little in the way of his years of experience in politics to draw experience and temperance from.
But she was the key, he realized.
She was the only one who seemed to have any kind of handle on his actions, as seemingly the only one he listened to at all. But he could not hope to manipulate her either, facing not only the same issues as with covertly working against Redhax directly, but also the issue of Shepard being no fool.
Meaning that for the time being, he could only trust in his protege.
"What about Benezia and Saren?" Shepard asked, jolting Anderson out of his thoughts.
Saren?
"If they know about indoctrination then can't they call all of it off, now that you're working together?"
Anderson's frown intensified at the thought of the hacker working with the turian Spectre, suddenly remembering his past involvement with him springing to mind all too vividly. Looking up, he wiped his expression clean as he focused on the conversation again.
"I don't trust them," Redhax replied curtly. "Besides, I doubt even they could 'pardon me' so easily, especially given that I would not stop what I've been doing until now, even after all of this has been settled."
The tan captain struggled with keeping himself expressionless even as Shepard scowled at the terminal between them. While knowing that Saren was not in command of the hacker was good, the man's sheer bullheadedness frankly shook him. He seemed determined to remain on a collision course with the rest of the galaxy.
But why?
Anderson shook his head. He wouldn't be able to figure that out, not by himself anyhow and not anytime soon. But he could tell Shepard what he thought of the matter. By sharing what he and the officers had been told, his misgivings about the hacker's motivations, and warning her about Saren, he could at least steer her clear of the worst pitfalls and help her get a grip of the reins.
Noticing that Shepard's hackles were being raised and that she was about to begin arguing with Redhax, Anderson coughed to interject. This wasn't the time or place. She blinked and looked at him. "He has a point, lieutenant."
That only made her more confused.
"In a—" he hesitated for a moment, grimacing as he couldn't deny the word he needed to use here. "—conspiracy like this, it is vital to maintain a certain level of deniability and expendability." He raised a hand to forestall her, understanding how strongly she felt about the justness of their cause from her expression alone. "Sometimes even in doing the right thing, there will be fallout. And we must accept that and strive to ensure that we do not bring everyone else down with us. Just as you were committed and ready to pay the price for dealing with Alliance Intelligence, so too, must I consider the costs."
Using her own situation against her like this might have been unfair, but she accepted his argument nonetheless, which was the most important part. Steven had entrusted him with finding out what was going on with Shepard and he had accepted. Even if the scope of the problem far exceeded his original expectations, there was no way he would allow this to crash and burn the admiral now.
Shepard exhaled through her nose, her furrowed brows speaking volumes.
"...Fine," she finally said with an explosive sigh.
Anderson grunted, understanding her frustrations perfectly.
"Then, what are your plans for now? And what should I call you?" the captain asked the terminal.
"Emiya is fine," the hacker replied casually. "And while I've nominally agreed to work with the turian Spectre, we haven't agreed on anything yet. We're meeting in a few weeks, but I would prefer being more familiar with him before the actual meeting itself takes place."
"And Alliance Intelligence will no doubt have compiled dossiers on him."
Emiya chuckled at the captain's comment, making no effort to deny it.
"If I can accomplish more than one goal that way, then why not?"
Anderson nodded. "Alright. Then what of me, if you intend to stand by Shepard against them?"
"Nothing, for now. Unless Shepard had something more in mind." He waited moment to give her a chance to interject, before continuing. "Besides, don't you already have your hands full with transporting the wounded and preparing the indoctrination protocols?" Emiya asked. "Especially with your second-in-command out of commission. For now, anyhow. It is by no means meaningless busywork, if that's what you thought."
Frowning yet feeling somewhat relieved, all the same, the captain nodded as Shepard shook her head.
"Alright."
That concluded the meeting, leaving David Anderson alone in his office again as his lieutenant returned to the sickbay before any of the orderlies came looking for the wheelchair-bound woman.
As for himself, he couldn't help but wonder what he would tell the Admiral. The hacker had displayed his complete and utter control over the situation, meaning that there would be no point in trying to act against him. I will have to ask Hackett to trust me on this if he asks. If he looks into matters independently, then... Rubbing his brow and leaning back against his chair, he couldn't help but sigh again at what a mess he had been pulled into. I'll call him now, while I'm still certain that the hacker is listening before we leave for Arcturus Station.
"Computer, priority call to Admiral Hackett."
As the terminal responded in its usual manner, the captain couldn't help but let out a relieved sigh.
;
"Councilor Tevos, it is good to see you," Benezia greeted warmly.
"And you as well, Honored Matriarch." The asari on the display replied with an incline of her head small enough that it honored her elder without compromising the status of her office. "The frightful news of the Dreyn N'var's destruction has disturbed many among our people, asari and others alike. But word of your safety will surely ease the minds of all now."
Benezia smiled in acknowledgment, but internally her mind was whirring at the implication there. The Councilor was implying that her political base had become weakened somehow? She had been out of the loop for a mere handful of hours; what could she have missed in so little time?
Her mind whirled with possibilities, hypothetical pieces falling into place to fit the reality she found herself in.
The disaster at Thessia and its aftermath—the increased gatherings of Matriarchs on Thessia—the deaths of Nirida Henell and the rescued asari—Liara's involvement with Baliya Haphia—The push for political power by the younger Asari Matriarchs—the Siarist spiritual unions, disunited and discontent for so long despite their nominal majority...
"I see, so Matriarch Trellani has finally chosen to make her move?" Benezia asked quietly, before shaking her head at Tevos' reaction all but confirming her suspicions. "Then..."
That would make things more difficult for her, as well Tevos knew. The Councilor said nothing, giving Benezia time to think.
Evacuating the asari would be a matter of merely asking the right people and informing them of the public relations boosting opportunity. The disaster at Thessia would no longer be a pressing matter and there would be numerous parties, who would be more than willing to help her with her crew and stand out among the hundreds and thousands already crowding the Thessian efforts.
But that wouldn't be enough.
Not with indoctrination as a risk.
But if her power base was being hollowed out beneath her, then finding someone willing and able to quarantine her entire crew would be much more difficult. Even if they kept it quiet—no, that would not work if the abandoning of her cruiser had already become public knowledge; they would have to make it a public affair. Something no one would want to be a part of if they could help it.
Perhaps if she could—no, but perhaps if...
Benezia grimaced as she considered numerous options, finally coming to a conclusion.
The optimal course of action would be to rely on Emiya, entrapping two moons in one orbit. He had access to resources that would ensure that she could care for her people without losing political capital, and it would work to bring them closer. Normally, after being entrusted with a vital yet sensitive matter—like ensuring that her crew was neither in, nor a source of danger—as she had been, asking for help would be a sure sign of incompetence. Something that would surely jeopardize their fledgling alliance.
But that man was rather strange.
The biggest obstacle in their relationship at the moment was her seeming surplus of competence. Simply put, he was wary of her. By asking for help, it would lower his estimation of her to a more reasonable level, from where she could more aptly apply her talents of persuasion on him. Additionally, she had a gut instinct that he would consider helping her a favor to himself, somehow. It was that delectable mixture of maturity and immaturity; how he safeguarded himself from everyone else by wrapping himself in cynic stoicism, keeping his core of idealistic warmth hidden from the world.
Like a bonrl treat, she thought with a small smile. A sweet, running core covered in a hard, bitter crust.
Not too dissimilar from Saren, either. Though that one clad himself in duty and convenient prejudices.
Benezia shook her head; these thoughts were getting her side-tracked from more important immediate matters. Of course, she had only entertained those thoughts because she already knew what had to be done, day-dreaming of alternatives for a few moments before she had to make up her mind.
The human was gone and she had no way of contacting him and she had no leverage on the turian, and worse yet, this matter could not wait. Every hour counted, which was why she had contacted Tevos on a priority line. A good solution now was better than a perfect one tomorrow.
She would have to cut loose Liara and leave her daughter to fend for herself, for starters. Picking a fight with those old biddies and drawing them in—perhaps even pushing them to ally themselves with the Siarists against her—was completely out of the question. Then again, hadn't she and her Little Wing agreed to already do so when she had left for Usaru? To cut ties and allow her daughter to live independently? Not that Benezia had ever truly stopped meddling in her little professor's life from behind the scenes. But now she would not be able to afford to waste the political capital.
Not with both Haphia and Henell dead and unable to speak for Liara.
Perhaps she would have to entrust the matter with Aethyta. She had been acting very protective as of late, hadn't she?
"She will have to wait for now," Benezia said as she continued the conversation. "Trellani has been waiting for this for well over a hundred years, I am certain she will not mind waiting a few more."
Tevos blinked, clearly surprised by her decision to ignore the threat. "Oh?"
"Has Saren reported any of our recent revelations, yet?" Benezia continued, knowing that he would not have. But given Emiya's decision to move forward overtly, she was certain that the best method remaining for her would be to rely on the Citadel's power through Saren as a proxy.
The Asari Councilor had not, Benezia deduced from the silence.
The turian had been oddly quiet. She wondered what Emiya had done to him, for him to be out of commission for so long.
"I am certain he will soon. But for now, I must jump the gun and request for the Citadel's aid with transporting and quarantining both the remaining crew of the Dreyn N'var and the ship itself."
"Of course." If Tevos had not been interested before... "I shall dispatch whatever aid I can. In the meantime, what has Spectre Arterius been doing?"
...then she was now.
;
Saren woke up, groggy and confused.
First, there was pain. Then panic. Finally, consciousness and control.
Struggling up into a seated position, his beady eyes scanned the empty room as he tried to re-assert himself. Vague memories mixed with hallucinations and nightmarish thoughts. Every motion shot another lancet of pain tingling through his upper body, but somehow, strangely...
He felt lighter.
As if his thoughts were clearer and unrestrained, somehow. Like someone had been screaming in his ear for so long that he had gotten used to it, only for that source of chaos and distress to somehow vanished, leaving him with nothing but an alien silence.
The turian shook his head and got up, grimacing at the lack of geth platforms near him. None seemed to be forthcoming, leaving him only with the grim conclusion that they were otherwise preoccupied at the moment. No doubt reporting my every failing to their master...
At least they had patched him as best they could, Saren thought as he looked at himself gingerly, but he was far from being actually well enough for action again. Even reaching over for the painkillers on the nearby tray was a near-herculean task. An injury like this couldn't be so easily fixed. It would take at least half a dozen operations and months of physical therapy, even with the Citadel's greatest medical minds working together.
It would take time and rest that he could not afford. Not now, not soon, likely not ever given the way things were escalating.
After struggling for a few minutes to work his omnitool, Saren gave up and instead found a terminal instead. He had too much work to do, preparing for Eden Prime and Emiya Shirou. He needed to mobilize his personal resources, clear up time in the next two weeks, ensure that the geth wouldn't be able to come along and spy on their meeting...
Every movement made his battered arm burn worse and worse. Maybe I should just cut it off... But he ignored it, suppressing the sensations and gritting his teeth through his work.
Everything was coming crashing down around him.
The geth had seen the entire debacle and had likely already told their 'god' everything.
The krogan loose end was gone; the Alliance having somehow caught wind of the mercenaries Saren had hired and had created an opportunity for the ancient battlemaster to escape.
The batarians potentially had their own black ops program relating to indoctrination and Reaper tech, which they had managed to keep secret even while Saren had been supplying this cell with Citadel materiel and munitions.
Emiya Shirou had escaped, but had several Alliance warships on his trail, already too far away for the turian to be able to intervene.
Benezia and her asari were aboard who knew how many Alliance ships and completely beyond his ability to silence now.
Councilor Tevos had sent him a message, all but demanding an immediate reply...
Saren took a shuddering inhale, sorting everything out in his head and enforcing order on his thoughts. This was hardly his first crisis and it certainly wouldn't be his last, given the direction the galaxy was headed in.
He could only suck it up and keep going, one problem at a time.
The geth had never been his allies, strictly speaking. They were useful and acted as manpower and resources when he couldn't leave any trails using his normal methods. But he had not allowed himself to rely on them. And luckily they were very simple, even naïve when it came to dealing with organics.
A weakness he had no intention of rectifying any time soon.
The real problem was the damned Reaper.
Saren would have to play it by ear until he knew what conclusions Sovereign had drawn. Until then... I believe him to be a risk because of his ability to overpower the geth; I chose to meet him on Eden Prime without any geth, but failed to find a chance to eliminate him... That might work for a while, as far as excuses went.
But eventually, he would have to put the human down to appease the Reaper. But for now, he was much too valuable, both as a source of information and as a temporary ally. But, surely a time would come in the future when the ever-shifting scales tilted just out of the human's favor, and t͏h̷en͜͞...
Another wave of nausea passed through him, forcing Saren to focus on simply breathing for long seconds as the floor and walls seemed to swim before his eyes.
"That's one matter..." he told himself, willing himself to keep going.
The krogan had somehow escaped, which was a problem. But he hadn't made contact with the humans and better yet, the incident seemed to have spooked the old lizard into hiding. So for the moment that could wait.
The Batarian Hegemony had in their tantrum pulled back all of their channels from the Citadel Presidium, halting all trade and blockading all travel through their vast territories. Officially, anyhow. In practice, however, there were still numerous lines of communications and trade, with travel being no more restricted than it had been before; their supposed territories were simply too vast for their government to actually govern.
But he was fairly certain that getting anything out of his sources in the Hegemony would be like pulling fangs. If past experiences were anything to go by, he might have to fork over valuable minerals and metals in the sums of millions of credits, before he got anything useful out of the four-eyed aliens.
And as far as tracking down the hacker went, if the whole of the Citadel hadn't managed it until now, then there was little point in worrying over the humans managing it. But, he did imply he would be heading towards human-controlled territories...
Mandibles flickered with amusement as a possibility sprung to mind.
"I might have a use for that one, then..."
Saren hadn't yet managed to form any plans for activating his newest asset, given the hurry with which he had had to leave for Torfan. But perhaps that would be for the best; allowing her to think it had been intentional. Keeping her on her toes and allowing her to believe he had had a plan for her the whole time.
The hardest part would be phrasing the order right, to ensure she did not reveal anything were she to be caught. But so long as she didn't realize why she was being sent back home, then it would be fine. In fact, it might even appear to the hacker that she would be working for her own organization rather than him, muddying the trail just enough to pass scrutiny and not endanger the truce.
And finally...
Saren grimaced again, considering the last to issues he had on his immediate agenda. He had no idea what Benezia might have told the asari councilor and he could not afford to cross the Citadel Council. Yet. So as much as it galled him, he now would have to contact the matriarch and talk to her.
"Well played, old woman."
;
This was a pretty short chapter since I didn't want any Emiya or Shepard points of view here. That said, for a moment there she went 50 points Paragon on Anderson and then immediately afterwards 75 points Renegade on Emiya :D
Anyhow, sort of a wrapping up of Torfan that I couldn't fit in the previous chapter. I kind of struggled with how to end this chapter, too since it's just 10k-ish words. You know you've gone too far when you think: "This is just 10,000 words. I can't possibly publish this..." haha :V
Next stop: Arcturus Station.
