Chapter 57 – In Need of a Break
Cargo Bay
The Normandy
I looked at the members of my crew, standing all around me. They were the best people I've ever known. I had fought for them, killed for them, laid my life on the line for them. They walked into hell by my side without asking a single question. There was no one I'd rather fight with, and there was nothing I would do for them. The galaxy's finest.
"You all suck!" I yelled, which startled Garrus badly enough that I could muscle past him. "TALI, CATCH!" I called, tossing the ball to her. She snatched it out of the air, but Vega was all over her. Undeterred, Tali hocked it to Donnelly, who faked Liara out and whipped it up into the air for Ashley, who tipped it through the large piece of metal with a hole in it that we used for a goal. One point.
"We are kicking ass!" I yelled gleefully.
"We need a better referee," said Garrus, hunched over, hands on his knees. "Those elbows you're throwing constitute war crimes."
"My calls have been impartial and accurate," protested EDI. She was still showing signs of damage from the rescue mission on Rannoch, but some emergency repairs had gotten her mobile platform mobile once more. "Captain Shepard's aggression is within the parameters of the agreed-upon rules, if on the high side."
"You're going down, Jack," said Jackie, looking furious.
"I don't think so, we're three up and you're terrible at this."
"Is he always this annoying when competing?" asked Traynor, wiping sweat off her forehead.
"Always," said Liara. I didn't care, I was too busy high-fiving Cortez.
Almost everyone on board the ship was down in the bay, watching the game. Chakwas had signed off on everyone's involvement, satisfied that they could weather the rigours of one impromptu game of netball. Chakwas herself was sipping a drink and casually chatting to Gabby Daniels and Greg Adams.
"Alright, let's play ball!"
Garrus, Jackie and Vega glanced at each other, and before I could do anything, they all rushed me immediately. Jackie stole the ball out of my hands and passed it to Traynor, who dodged Donnelly and went for the easy lay-up.
"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about!" exulted Vega.
"We'll get you back," said Ashley. "Two Spectres on this team, we'll tear through you."
"Oh yeah?" said Jackie. "We've got the Shadow Broker herself. Let us win or she'll reveal all of your dirty little secrets."
"Anyone who just 'lets' them win goes straight into the brig, Captain's orders," I said.
"I'm tapping out sir," said Cortez. "Need a break."
"I'm highly disappointed in you. Javik, you're up."
"I do not understand the point of this activity," he grumbled.
"It's fun!"
"I do not care for fun."
"It helps foster camaraderie and sharpens your accuracy," said Ashley, and he perked up a bit.
"Prothean beacon in your brain and you can't convince the Prothean to play ball," taunted Garrus.
"Just for that, Vakarian, you're getting another elbow in the ribs."
"Physical threats are in a violation of the rules," warned EDI.
"Just good old-fashioned trash-talk, EDI, nothing more."
My team eventually lost by a single point, due in no small part to Javik's unfamiliarity with the basics of ball games. I lay flat on the floor, breathing heavily, while Jackie, Garrus, Vega, Traynor and even Liara made a tremendous amount of noise.
"The Old Man loses this time!" crowed Joker, while Campbell and Westmoreland cheered. Gabby Daniels laughed, while Donnelly looked disgusted. Jackie stood over me, gloating.
"In your face, Jack!"
"Shore leave is cancelled for all of you," I said.
"Sounds like the captain has gone mad with power and authority," said Ashley.
"Let's mutiny and choose a new captain," suggested Joker. "I volunteer, I've had experience."
"I think we need new blood at the helm," said Daniels. "I nominate Sam Traynor!" The cheer was picked up by everyone else. Vega and Garrus hoisted Traynor on their shoulders while she did a lap of victory. I groaned and covered my eyes with my arm.
It was good to blow off a little steam. No matter how you looked at it, we did achieve a massive victory. Garrus had been beside himself with manic glee, once he regained consciousness, and spent hours coming up with tactics on how the Flotilla could support the Turian Armada in combat. Vega pointed out that the geth were throwing their hat in the ring too, and that set Garrus off again.
It took some time to get from the Far Rim to the Citadel, and we all took some time to unwind. Liara made good on her promise, sifting through the immense stores of intelligence reports Legion had gifted her, and sent them off to the Council and the Crucible Project. Chakwas worked with those who were injured down on Rannoch, while Tali fell into a familiar routine with Adams, Daniels and Donnelly, acting as a natural bridge between the straitlaced Alliance engineer and the two former Cerberus members. The crew were delighted to hear that Tali would be joining us on a longer-term basis.
Our earlier enmity put aside, Tali showed me reports on how the geth were helping the quarians to adjust to a life on Rannoch. Not only were they building shelters and distributing medical supplies for the small group of vulnerable quarians who had decided to stay on Rannoch, geth programmes merged with quarian bodysuits to simulate virus attacks, helping to make their immune systems stronger.
"To think that there are quarian children walking around on the homeworld right now who won't need suits when they've grown up," she marvelled.
We also held a solemn ceremony where Legion's name was added to The Normandy memorial wall. No one dared object.
"Before it sacrificed itself, Legion referred to 'I' instead of 'we'," said EDI during the occasion. "The singular pronoun indicates that Legion's independent personality had fully actualised. In its last moments, it was not an avatar of the Geth Consensus. He was a person."
A minute's silence, and then we went back to our duties. But it felt right. Without Legion, the quarian-geth war couldn't have been stopped. And now that it was, we all had a shot at beating the Reapers.
I skimmed some mission reports that Hackett had forwarded to me. The other Normandy-class ships that the Alliance had sent on other missions around the galaxy had done some pretty spectacular things. The Khalkhin Gol rescued a bunch of defecting Cerberus scientists, including my old friend Jacob Taylor. The Stalingrad had led evacuation efforts off the elcor's homeworld of Dekunaa. The El Alamein's timely intervention during a Reaper ambush had given a krogan convoy enough time to escape. It felt good to know that we weren't alone in this fight.
When we finally reached the Citadel, I made the traditional Captain's farewell address ahead of liberty.
"Soldiers and sailors of The Normandy. You have fought hard and served well. You deserve some free time without worrying about orders and responsibilities. While at liberty, you will conduct yourself with the bearing and decorum I expect from a member of my crew, at all times, while in public. Everything you do reflects on me. Everything we do reflects on our ship. And everything achieved by this ship reflects on the Humanity Systems Alliance. Get some rest, have some fun, then come back and let's win this war."
The cheer I got in reply echoed around the ship.
My crew filed out one by one, leaving me the last to leave, as was the custom. At the dock, I was greeted by an army of Alliance techs and mechanics, sent by Hackett.
"Take care of my girl for me," I said.
"We will, sir," said the lead tech. "Just want to say, we all think you're doing a great job out there."
"Thank you," I said. I appreciated the support a little more when it was coming from a fellow Alliance serviceman. Jackie was waiting for me at the far end of the dock. I slung an arm over her shoulder and we walked off together.
"Where are you headed?"
"I thought I'd go check out this apartment of Anderson's."
"A whole apartment on the wards? Nice to have friends in high places."
"It's pretty cool. Wanna come with me?"
"I'll come by later, I gotta go do something," she said, and I knew she wanted to check in on her Grissom Academy kids, and she wanted to do it in private.
"Sure, give me a call," I said, and kissed her on the cheek.
"Don't get in trouble," she warned.
"I'm not gonna get in trouble in the middle of the Citadel, babe."
"The last time you were here, I saved your ass from a terror attack."
"Oh yeah, so you did."
"Don't blow anything up. I love you."
"I love you too."
I took a cab to Anderson's apartment, in a fairly posh section of the Wards. There were three layers of security, which was rather reassuring. The door opened up and let me in, and I stood still for a moment, stopped dead in my tracks by the most lavish display of opulence and luxury I had seen in a long time.
Space was at a premium on the Citadel, the hub of an entire galaxy. It was the home of the Council, the nexus of political power, which of course meant that the galaxy's richest and most influential beings needed to be there to be as close by as possible. Proximity to power was a kind of a power all by itself, although the truly wise knew never to confuse the two. Still, people from a hundred thousand worlds fought and scrapped for the opportunity to jam themselves in boltholes just to work on the Citadel. The richest and most well-connected could afford unbelievably luxurious living quarters, which in Citadel terms meant a space equivalent to a three-room apartment in New York City or Hong Kong or Lagos.
So to walk into Anderson's apartment blew my damn mind.
It was huge. Huge! It was big enough to play a game of football. It was fitted out in marble, polished wood, and gleaming steel. A water fountain bubbled merrily in the foyer. Actual plants lent the place a natural look. An enormous fireplace dominated the living room, big enough to roast a turkey in. And that was just the first floor!
I wandered around, eyes wide, bowled over by each new stunning luxury. A kitchen bigger than the galley on The Normandy. A library that would have satisfied a college professor. Bathrooms with a tub big enough to stretch out in, and rain showers. Soft music played from the hidden entertainment system, making the whole place feel warm and welcoming.
I climbed the stairs to the second floor and leaned against the railing, allowing myself a moment to take it all in. I still couldn't get over the sprawl of the entire apartment. For this much space, the place should have cost as much as a good-sized cruise ship.
The upper floor held more riches in store, with the pride of place going to the master bedroom, boasting a bed large enough to sleep four. I couldn't resist, and flopped down on it, something I always did in hotel rooms.
The message indicator on my omni-tool beeped. It was a missive from none other than Admiral Anderson. I scrolled through it slowly. The apartment was intended to be his retirement home, somewhere he could settle down with Kahlee Sanders. Maybe raise a family. But then the war came. The longer he spent on Earth, the more he realised he wanted to stay. It was the home he was fighting for. So he wanted to give it to me, to take it off his hands. A gift that was worth millions and millions. Besides, General John Kennedy Shepard needed a place to rest and recharge, to clear his head. The HSA needed a Shepard who was fully focused.
Well goddamn, thank you very much, Anderson.
Anderson said he'd left some notes around the apartment, leftovers from an interview special he did with the Alliance News Network. I thought I'd do him a favour and spend some time gathering them up and putting them in some kind of order. Instead, I lost an hour just listening to Anderson's thoughts. How he was born in London, spent most of his childhood shadowing his father at a spaceport, watching the ships land and take off every day. How he was selected for the N7 programme, and how he was chosen to lead the joint human-turian project, the symbol of a new era of cooperation, The Normandy.
Surprisingly, there was one entry about me. I opened it up, hearing Anderson's deep voice fill the apartment.
"Sure, I can talk about John Shepard. Big topic. There's been a lot written about him, but most of it isn't true. People are quick to judge. They don't know the whole story. I don't even know the whole story. But I know the man. Worked with him. Fought with him. Trust him with my life. The Skyllian Blitz was once Shepard's biggest accomplishment. He stood amongst civilians and bystanders and rallied them to repel a batarian attack. That's the kind of man he is. People gravitate to him, not because he charms them into following, but because he believes in what he is doing so fervently that they can see it too.
He embodies the Marine mantra, 'no better friend, no worse enemy.' And he lives up to that even after all these years. The war against Saren, the Collector Abductions, the Bahak System, even now. Few people know what Shepard's been through. I like to think that I come pretty close. And I worry sometimes he forgets there's a whole bunch of people who lose sleep over him getting back home. Maybe it doesn't need to be said. Maybe we're too dumb to say it. Soldiers like him are rare. Men like him are even more rare."
Anderson had been completely honest. I sat down and enjoyed the silence for a while. In a way, most of my career had been about living up to the high standards he set for me. Following in his footsteps, going further than he had ever gone. Even now he was fighting with everything he had to make sure we had a home to go back to. I would have given anything to shake his hand on a planet at peace.
Another message got my attention. It was Joker. He wanted to meet me at Ryuusei Sushi, a fabulously expensive restaurant located on the Silversun Strip. He said he'd pay, and I intended to hold him to his promise.
Silversun Strip
The Citadel
The Strip was a swirling kaleidoscope of light, colour and noise. Crowds milled about, chatting and laughing while scorchingly bright neon signs filled my entire field of vision. Advertisements promised everything that money could buy, and beyond. Music from a thousand genres blared from shops and bars and clubs and restaurants and arcades and casinos and dens. It reminded me of Shinjuku, of Amsterdam, of Las Vegas, of Mumbai. I moved through the chaos, nondescript in my leather jacket. People were too busy to notice me, and I kind of liked it that way.
I found the restaurant that Joker mentioned, with a line that looked a mile long. Just the concept of a functioning sushi restaurant boggled my mind. With supply lines cut or disrupted, I had no idea where they were getting their ingredients. I took up a spot at the end, but the maitre'd spotted me.
"Sir! Front of the line, if you please. Your table is ready."
Sheepishly, I hurried to the entrance, trying to ignore the disapproving looks. I usually didn't like to throw my weight around, but I wasn't going to turn down saving a hour of my time.
The interior was as plush and expensive-looking as I imagined. Joker was seated at a table for two, still wearing his Normandy cap. He waved when he saw me, and I sat down.
"This place is amazing!" he said happily. "Did you see the line outside?"
"I noticed," I replied. Joker was sipping on something that looked delicious, and I wanted one as well.
"Save the galaxy a couple of times, and they let you enjoy a little luxury," he said happily.
"Has its perks, doesn't it?" My own drink arrived, and I toasted with Joker. "To The Normandy!"
"So," said Joker, looking somewhat more serious. "Your message said it was important?"
"Your message? I'm here because I got a message from you."
"What the hell? I didn't send you anything."
"Shepard!"
A loud shout made the entire restaurant look up. A young woman wearing the dress blues of an Alliance officer was headed to our table.
"Friend of yours?"
No, sir."
"Shepard, my name is Maya Brooks," she said, saluting clumsily. "I'm a Staff Analyst from Alliance Intelligence. There are people trying to kill you."
"Yeah, I think he's aware of that," quipped Joker.
"No, I don't mean Cerberus and the Reapers. Other people. New people. Someone is hacking your account. Comm channels, personal records. They're targeting you specifically."
"What do they want?"
"The intel isn't definitive yet," she said, a little rushed. "The last time I made a recommendation based on non-definitive intel, we almost landed troops on a gas giant. Which is bad!"
"Hang on," I said, trying to restore some order. "Take a breath, and take it from the top. What's going on?"
Before she could answer, a commotion from the front of the restaurant got our attention. A group of heavily armed and armoured mercenaries burst in.
"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's entertainment is brought to you courtesy of random acts of violence!"
They shot at the ceiling, sending the diners screaming and scurrying for cover.
"Now spread out, and find me Shepard!"
One of the mercs grabbed Brooks and hauled her away. "Get out of here, find the crew! I'll get Brooks."
"Yes sir!" said Joker. Unfortunately, one of the mercs saw him limping away.
"Hey, you!"
Fortunately, this brought him closer to the upturned table, where I was crouching, and while he was distracted by Joker, I knocked him out and took his rifle. Unfortunately, Joker misread the situation.
"You used me as bait?" he yelled, horrified.
"Get the hell out of here! Go find the others!"
"Saviour of the Citadel, everyone!" griped Joker, as he went out through the kitchens. "Hero of the Skyllian Blitz! Uses someone with brittle bone disease as bait!"
"Shut up!"
A hail of bullets clattered around me, but when there was a lull, I knew better than to peek my head over the top of the table. There were multiple opponents, and one of them could have been hanging back, waiting to blow my head off as soon as I assumed that all of them were reloading.
So I did what none of them would have ever expected – I tossed the merc's rifle high into the air.
And while they were surprised for a split second to see me give up my weapon, their attention momentarily focused on the rifle, I reached into my boot for my spare pistol and shot all three mercs dead before the next second passed. What, did they think I walked around anywhere without my own gun these days, even in the Citadel?
I allowed myself a deep breath, and called out for the Alliance agent.
"Brooks! Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, I think! I just kept my head down and hoped that no one would shoot me, and it seems to have – NO!"
Before I could respond Brooks tackled me to the ground, and I heard gunfire. There was another gunman outside the restaurant, firing wildly at us. I backed up, scrabbling desperately, as bullets hit the floor right next to my crotch. It was at that moment I realised three things.
If a stray shot destroyed my penis, I would be upset, but not as much as Jackie would be.
The floor I was lying on wasn't exactly a floor, it was clear and there seemed to be fish swimming around beneath me. It wasn't enough to advertise with a sign, this restaurant had to make it abundantly clear that yes, it had fish.
And the third was that the glass floor containing a large amount of water and some fish was beginning to crack.
I didn't even have enough time to swear before the entire floor gave way and I crashed through, glass, and fish falling all around me.
I desperately tried to hang on to something to slow my fall – a neon sign, an awning, an open window, anything at all, but I succeeded in only arresting my descent by mere inches. I hit a platform with just enough force not to kill me.
"Fuckkkk," I hissed, as even screaming would have been too painful. I felt like 200 pounds of jelly. Every breath sent a sharp pain right through my body. Eventually, I managed to stagger to my feet.
Was it too much to ask for two days of uninterrupted rest and relaxation? Apparently it was. I cursed the universe for forcing me to live in interesting times.
Somewhere in the Citadel
I was wet all over, because it felt like the entire aquarium in the sushi restaurant had emptied itself all over my head. I was aching all over, because I fell from a height of what felt like ten stories. I was pretty sure I was only mobile thanks to Cerberus's upgrades on on my body. And I was annoyed, because evil mercs had decided to mess with my shore leave.
Shoot at me during working hours all you like, but don't you dare mess with my shore leave.
I slowly moved through the bowels of the Citadel, heavy on pipes and machinery and light on people. Occasionally, Brooks would contact me through a private channel, claiming that all other comms had been hacked. I was too weary to argue the point, until Liara called.
"John, is everything all right? Joker told us what happened."
"I'm alive," I said. "I want you to use your Shadow Broker contacts to find out who these people are. And then you are going to help me kill them all, one by one."
"Of course," said Liara, with zero hesitation.
"Who is this?" came Brooks's voice. "This is a secure channel and you are broadcasting Commander Shepard's position to the enemy!"
"I am Dr. Liara T'soni of The Normandy," said Liara in icy tones. "I serve with General Shepard and I assure you, this channel is quite secure."
"Joker should have told you about Staff Analyst Brooks," I said. "Play nice, everyone."
Both of them quietened down, which allowed me to get to the landing zone in relative peace and quiet. I hit a door control button and gave a little yelp when I saw the scene laid out in front of me. Liara was there, and she had gasped and jumped back a little at the exact same moment. Dead mercenaries sprawled out on the ground at her feet.
"What are you doing here?" we asked each other at the same time. I waved a hand in the universal gesture of you first.
"Did you fall through a fish tank? A shame, I quite liked that restaurant."
I sighed. "Is that really the most important thing you have to say to me right now?"
"My people are working on identifying these mysterious attackers of yours," said Liara, sounding more assured. "A little levity never hurt."
Just as I was about to mutter exactly how I would make sure it would hurt for all asari in general and one annoying asari professor turned spymaster in particular, a whirring noise made us look up. A shuttle, full of mercenaries. And they all had guns.
"HIT THE DECK!"
We were on the ground before the soundwaves from my panicked yell had faded from the air. Unfortunately, it was replaced by the sound of very loud automatic weapons-fire. I patted down my pockets and swore. I had brought along an extra gun, but left my grenades on board the ship. Traynor had reminded me to adhere to navy regs to not carry explosives in civilian areas, and like a fool I'd done what she asked.
"RARRRRGH!"
There was a crash and a shower of shards and twisted metal somewhere above us. And even above the din, a familiar roar. There was a meaty thud, as if a steak made from a tyrannosaurus-rex was hurled by a giant at the side of a building.
Liara and I exchanged a glance. It couldn't be.
More screams of terrified mercenaries. Short bursts of gunfire, then horrible crunching sounds, and a sound like wet meat being violently ripped apart.
"I AM URDNOT WREX, AND THIS IS MY CITADEL!"
We peeked our heads above cover. Wrex was standing, surrounded by the bodies of dead mercs. His hands were covered in blood, like his teeth, which he flashed in a crocodile grin.
"You can't just go around claiming things you like," I said testily.
"I can if the Council lets me," protested Wrex. "That's why I'm here, to hash things out with them. The krogan wade into the toughest battles against the Reapers, we get a few planets and moons to settle on once this is all over."
"Sounds like a fair trade," said Liara.
"It is, which is why the Council won't like it."
I checked a nearby merc. No ID, no incriminating equipment. I wasn't actually expecting to find anything, but a clue would be nice. I'd even take a Cerberus employee badge, but settled for just pocketing the merc's gun instead. After that, I gave up and radioed Joker.
"Come in, Moreau."
Joker responded, his tone icy. "Yes, captain?"
I sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about the bait thing."
"You should be."
"Just – just come pick us up. You can complain later."
"I'm going to file a formal complaint with the Alliance and The Normandy's HR officer."
"We have a HR officer?"
"I believe the Executive Officer handles such matters, or at least delegates them," said Liara, completely deadpan. I snickered.
"You know what Joker, go ahead and file a complaint with Ashley. Just let me know in advance so I can be there when you do."
Shepard's Apartment
The Citadel
"I claim this apartment for the krogan."
"No, I'm seconding it to the Shadow Broker's operations. This would make an ideal hideout."
"No you bloody well won't," I said to both of them. Meanwhile, Joke was staring wildly around him, jaw hanging open.
"How the hell did you get this? It's a palace! Man, I guess it's true that the higher you climb the ladder, the more perks you get."
"Please Wrex, eat him for me."
"Gladly," rumbled the big krogan. Joker shifted away from him slightly.
"I got it from Anderson, he doesn't need it anymore and no, I didn't know he was going to do it. I happen to like this place and I'm going to keep it," I explained.
"Let's make a deal, you let me crash here whenever I want and I don't tell the media about this display of blatant corruption."
Luckily for Joker, the ringing doorbell cut off what I was going to tell him about his stupid deal. Everyone in the apartment aimed a weapon or otherwise threatening bodily appendage at the front door.
"Calm down guys," I said, checking out the security cameras on my omni-tool. "It's only this Maya Brooks person."
"Can we trust her?" asked Wrex.
"She's an Alliance officer, Wrex," I said.
"That doesn't answer the question," said Liara.
"Let's just keep her at arm's length, shall we?" I said, tapping the buttons that allowed Brooks to enter. She immediately launched into a spiel about the mercs we've seen. I raised a hand to interrupt her.
"Why don't we just call Bailey at C-Sec and ask him what the hell's going on?"
"Is that a good idea? Anyone else we involve will have a target on their backs," said Brooks, gesturing wildly. She seemed a little hyper.
"Fine, we'll run this ourselves."
"Right. Ourselves. On our own. Outside the law. Ok, yeah," she babbled. I gave her a pointed look.
"Do you have a problem with that?" I asked.
"I got shot! I took a desk-job explicitly not to get shot. I took some medi-gel, but the medi-gel might have made me jumpy. Do I seem jumpy to you?"
"Yes," I said, too tired to lie. "Pump the brakes a little. How did you get mixed up in this anyway?"
Brooks explained that she monitored data for Alliance Intel to protect officer from getting hacked and used for fraud. She wrote a tracking programme which she'd named after her cat for some reason, which detected a breach in my classified files, compromising everything.
"Imagine what they could do with Shepard's high-level clearance codes! Or Spectre codes," said Brooks.
"Yes," I said slowly. "That makes sense. That's why they're trying to kill me." I glanced at Liara, who nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Exactly," said Brooks. "No one can stop them until the damage is done."
"Jack, please hand me that gun you took off the merc," said Liara. I did so. "I can analyse it for possible clues."
"Well you can try," said Brooks, "But I've been digging pretty deep and so far, I haven't found anything."
"I'm sure you have," said Liara. I chuckled. She was too polite to advertise her status as the Shadow Broker in front of Brooks.
"Joker, call the rest of the crew, find out what they're up to. Shore leave just got cancelled, I'm afraid."
"Oh, they are going to love that," said Joker. I sighed.