Chapter 19: Afternoon Talks
With my chat with Kaidan suddenly on hold, I had some free time on my hands. So I went to the cafeteria for lunch and confirmed that hospital food was still as crappy as ever. Then I decided to go see a certain volus while Kaidan thought about what Anderson had said.
As I walked along the Presidium, I couldn't help but notice how peaceful it was. As James had noted, it was a stark contrast from the reality that existed in the rest of the galaxy. But I suppose it was a welcome respite, so long as you didn't forget what was really going on. It was startling how… how Earth-like it was. The sights, the sounds, the smells. So after enduring Avina's usual sales pitch, I asked her about it.
"The current decoration budget was approved by Ambassador Osoba, the human representative for Earth on the Citadel," she explained. "Each species granted ambassadorial rights on the Citadel can apply for a slot on the decoration schedule to change the promenade and parks below. The only condition is that the proposed environmental features not be toxic to species living on the Citadel."
Well that was kinda cool. Give everyone a chance to feel like they were at home, one at a time.
Avina also gave some more bullshit about biometric security measures that were in place for our safety. She also told me that the producer of the latest Blasto movie—'Blasto 6: Partners in Crime'—was donating a portion of the proceeds to the Citadel's military defence fund. Audio clips could be heard at any of the interactive ads for the movie. (1) Yippee. And God help us all.
I soon got bored and wandered off. That was how I came across a pair of human civvies who were trying to figure out how to contribute to the war. I suggested a couple options for them to consider besides the obvious choice of enlisting, much to their relief: apparently they weren't looking forward to shooting themselves in the proverbial—or literal foot.
After saying goodbye, I left the civvies, passed a volus lamenting the loss of some religious text and bumped into a salarian who was having a rather heated discussion with a turian. "If we switch from financial VIs to military gear, we'll lose millions," the former said.
"Who cares about the money!" the turian snapped. "Haven't you heard the news from Palaven?"
"That's what your army is for," the salarian waved it off. "Nothing's going to reach the Citadel." (2)
"We need to start manufacturing military tech," the turian insisted. "Nobody will need banking software if these Reapers win."
"The market for military goods barely carries a profit," the salarian scoffed. "Who do you propose as our buyer?"
And that's where I stepped in, because it's that kind of complacent, self-centred thinking that screwed us over in the first place. A few words here, some brainstorming there and voila! Those financial VIs were now enhanced targeting VIs compatible with any standard weapon. I left the two businessmen to haggle out the rest of the details.
Without any further distraction, I was able to make my way to Barla Von. Liara had suggested I contact him the last time I was on the Citadel. He gave me a job rescuing some of the Shadow Broker's spec-ops soldiers, not knowing that I knew his boss. It had taken a while, but I was able to extract them in the midst of my not-so-random galactic wanderings. Now it was time to report in. "Hi again," I greeted him. "You may recall our earlier conversation about some soldiers who were trapped in Reaper territory. Consider them successfully rescued."
"*hiss* Excellent work. *hiss* The Shadow Broker has authorized me to offer you a finder's fee for his guards' safety."
That was very generous of him.
"*hiss* And now that our business is concluded, *hiss* I have to tend to some other engagements. *hiss* Goodbye, Commander."
"Goodbye, Barla Von."
"*hiss* And may I say… good luck."
With that bit of success, along with the other successes I'd stumbled into along the way, I figured I'd earned a drink. Hell, considering all the things I'd endured, I was surprised that I hadn't been downing a bottle or two each day. As luck would have it, there was a small bar up ahead. A few steps from the bar were a couple tables and chairs, situated next to a breathtaking view of the Presidium. Liara was there too, so I figured I'd drop by and say hello after buying my drink. "One beer, please," I ordered.
"Sure thing." The asari bartender got my drink and turned around. To my surprise, I recognized her. So did she: "Hey, I remember you. Shepard, right? Heard you're fighting the Reapers."
"Matriarch Aethyta," I returned. "You were working on Illium a year ago. How'd you end up here?"
"Eh, with the Reapers making noise, I figured it was time to get somewhere safer, so I moved here."
"Uh huh."
"It's definitely safer. And more boring, but what can you do?"
See, this would fool most people. But not me. Especially when I'd seen an interesting recording on the Shadow Broker ship—before I turned myself in and Liara sent it crashing into one of TIMmy's ships. "I don't think so," I smiled thinly. "I've seen some video footage… of you looking at Liara. Which might explain why you were on Illium a while ago."
Aethyta and I quietly looked at Liara, who had her nose buried in her datapad. "Yeah…" Aethyta said at last. "Matriarch Benezia was…was her mother, and she doesn't know it, but I was her father."
Ah, Matriarch Benezia. So wise. So indoctrinated. So enamoured of tight black leather that showed an awful lot of cleavage. "Father or other mother?" I asked.
"Well I didn't pop her out. Hell, she's never even met me."
"Huh. If you were human, you'd both be called the mother, regardless of which one gave birth."
"Well, I'm not human, am I? Anthropocentric bag of dicks."
I didn't really know Aethyta well enough to know if she was genuinely offended or just being cranky for the hell of it. Or maybe she was right and traditional human terms didn't really apply to a mono-gendered species. I let that slide by and got to the important part: "Liara would love to meet you."
"Why?" Aethyta snorted. "She doesn't know me from a hole in the ground. Benezia ran off before the kid was born. Besides, this isn't charity work. She's one of the biggest intel brokers in the galaxy."
Translation: she had been sent to keep an eye on her.
"And she's got some shady connections… like a human commander that used to work for Cerberus." Aethyta gave me a shady look out of the corner of her eye. "Sound familiar?"
"With Cerberus," I said. (3) "I worked with Cerberus, but only to fight the Reapers, and I cut ties with them as soon as I could."
"I know," she replied. "If you were, you wouldn't get within a light-year of Liara. Not breathing, anyway."
"Is that a threat?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"I'm no commando," Aethyta replied fervently, "but I've had a thousand years to learn to fight dirty. Nobody messes with my girl." She took a breath and composed herself. "Anyway, you combine her latest job with Benezia's history, and… well, the matriarchs might've ordered a hit if I hadn't agreed to keep an eye on her."
"That's not going to happen," I snapped, planting my hands firmly on the bar.
"No argument here," she agreed. "I only took these crap jobs to keep the matriarchs happy that she's under control."
At least her maternal—or paternal—instincts were still kicking. Still, she didn't really know her own daughter aside from spying on her for who knows how long. I, on the other hand, had talked to, listened to and fought beside Liara on and off for the last couple years. So I think I can be forgiven for being a little wary. "Just as long as we're clear."
"We're clear," she reassured me.
"You should come clean with her," I advised. "It'd be better for everyone."
Aethyta snuck another look at her daughter, this one more… wistful. "Yeah. We'll see how that goes."
With that done, I had even more reason to talk to Liara, who was still too engrossed in her datapad to appreciate the scenery, though. Miranda was there as well, having apparently arrived while I was chatting with Aethyta. First things first, though. "Still working?" I asked Liara, sitting down beside her.
"One call leads to another," she sighed. "And here I was hoping I'd have time to enjoy the view." She got to her feet and gave her eyes a rest. "The last time I saw the Presidium… remember how it was all rubble after Sovereign attacked?"
"I barely got to see the Presidium before half of it got crushed," I remembered.
"And by the time they repaired it, it was time for the next invasion."
"Right on schedule."
Liara didn't smile. That's okay: it wasn't a great joke anyway. "The Citadel hasn't seen the reality of this war yet. We should stock up on necessities while we can."
"Such as?"
"Eezo, heavy arms, mercenary groups."
She said itso seriously. So bleakly. She wasn't wrong, mind you, but still… "We'll get the supplies and the people we need," I told her. "Don't forget to take a moment for yourself now and then."
"I know, I know." She rubbed her eyes and shook her head. "But there's always just one more task or meeting. Speaking of meeting, have you had a chance to see Barla Von again?"
"I have. And I had an interesting chat with the bartender over there."
"The matriarch hired by the asari government to track my movements?" Liara asked calmly.
"Yeah." I took a deep breath before taking the plunge. "About that. She's your father."
"I know."
Figured. Well that made it slightly easier. "And you haven't talked to her?"
"If I confronted her about spying on me, that would prove to the Asari Republics that her cover was compromised. They would then recall her and send someone who wasn't as sympathetic to me," Liara pointed out. "Besides, this is hardly the time for family reunions."
"I get why you wouldn't want to risk exposing Matriarch Aethyta for espionage-related reasons," I frowned. "But aren't you even remotely curious about who your father is?"
"Well, yes. But—"
"Anything could happen in the near future. You could be injured or worse. She could be injured or worse. Or maybe she leaves the Citadel and you lose track of her. This could be your only chance to talk to her."
Liara closed her eyes. "You really think I should?"
"My own dad disappeared when I was about twelve," I replied. "I never knew why. I spent years wondering if it was something I said? Something I did? Would he have stayed if I had done something? Was it my fault?" (4)
"Shepard." Liara reached out and gently squeezed my arm. "I'm sure none of that is true."
It took everything I had not to tear up. I mean, I'd dealt with these questions for over half of my life, but I'd never really found any answers. None that made sense, anyway. I swallowed, took a deep breath and forced myself to continue. "The point is, if I had a chance to talk to my dad, I'd take it. Because I've got a lot of questions that need answering. If you don't, that's fine. But if you do…"
I trailed off and let Liara fill in the blanks. The next move was up to her.
She tucked her datapad away in a pocket. Then she squeezed my arm again, stood up, squared her shoulders and walked towards her father. I saw Aethyta freeze ever so slightly as she saw her daughter approach. Slowly, I got to my feet and went over to Miranda. "Are you all right?" she asked when I sat down.
She heard our conversation. Of course she did. "More or less," I replied.
Miranda was kind enough to let it go and returned her attention to her omni-tool. "What are you doing?" I asked as I watched her nimble fingers dance over the holographic interface.
"Modifying the omni-tool to act as a directional laser microphone."
"You're gonna eavesdrop on their conversation? I'm so proud of you."
"I'm thrilled. One moment." Miranda entered one last command and we settled in to listen. "—mean, come on, you can't blame the matriarchs for keeping an eye on you," Aethyta was saying.
"I am not my mother," Liara replied.
"Well… you did threaten to flay someone alive with your mind," Aethyta reminded her.
"I had to make them take me seriously. I wasn't going to actually do it. Goddess, I wouldn't even know how to go about…" Liara trailed off as something occurred to her. "You bugged my office on Illium."
"That would be the logical conclusion, yeah," Aethyta admitted. "But don't worry: the matriarchs aren't gonna do anything to you. Especially not in the middle of this damn war."
"My reports don't show much activity from the asari military against the Reapers."
"I can confirm that," Miranda grumbled. I quickly hushed her. This conversation was getting interesting.
"Come on, you know how asari work. Infiltration and sabotage."
"But against Reaper forces, that's…"
"I know," Aethyta sighed. "About as useful as tits on a hanar."
Ah, Aethyta. Still as painfully crude as ever. Though I had to admit that it was a refreshing change from the airs of superiority that some asari liked to put on.
"Good thing we've got the turians and the krogan to do the heavy lifting. Our people just aren't built for the front ranks. Which reminds me: my dad was a krogan."
"Yes, I'm aware of that," Liara said.
"So that makes you a quarter krogan."
"That's… that's not how it works," Liara shook her head. "Our people read the genome of our partners during the melding and use it as a template to randomize the genes of our offspring. Any exchange of genetic material has no impact on repro—"
"I'm a thousand years old," Aethyta interrupted. "I've had kids with hanar. Don't tell me how asari reproduction works."
"Wait… I have a half-sister who's part hanar?"
"I thought that wasn't how it worked," Aethyta said innocently.
"Well…"
"Relax, Liara. All I'm saying is that if you feel the urge to head-butt something, it's genetic."
Miranda and I exchanged mildly alarmed looks. "Uh oh," we chorused.
"I have never wanted to head-butt anything."
"Really?" We could see Aethyta stare at her daughter in amazement, even from where we were sitting. "Not even a little bit? Come on."
"I do not head-butt people!" Liara insisted.
Aethyta raised her hands in an attempt to placate her. "All right, fine, don't go all 'blood rage' on me."
"Or what? You'll tell the other matriarchs to order a hit?"
"Hey." The shift in Aethyta's voice from jovial lightheartedness to iron seriousness was startling. "That's not gonna happen."
"How do you know that?"
"When you've lived for a thousand years, you tend to pick up a few things. Dirty little secrets here, skeletons in the closet there. Of course, I only know enough to ruin the political careers of a couple matriarchs. Nezzy knew enough to actually make them do what she wanted."
"You… you mean my mother?"
"Yeah. Nezzy and I were together for more than a century."
Liara's next question was notably quieter. "You loved her?"
"'Course I loved her. She was so smart. Always thinking. Nice, too. Hell of a lot nicer than I am. And damn, that rack! I mean, even before she hit the matriarch stage…" Aethyta whistled appreciatively while Miranda and I winced. (5)
"You… you don't need to tell me everything," Liara decided.
Amen to that.
"Anyway, Nezzy was the only one who ever listened to me when I said the asari were stuck in the past," Aethyta continued, having given Liara enough traumatic images for now. "Only difference was, I wanted us to stand on our own. She wanted alliances with the other species."
"Is that why…"
"Why it ended? Nah." Then Aethyta stopped and thought about it some more. "Well... maybe. I don't know. Mostly it ended because she wanted to solve things the smart way. Cooperation, building mutual understanding, long term stuff. Me, I wanted to fight."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive," Liara pointed out.
"Yeah. I hear you've racked up quite a body count. The Citadel, Therum, Feros, Noveria, the Citadel again, Illium. But then, you are a quarter krogan."
"Now you're doing it on purpose."
"Maybe."
"So when the two of you… did you see it coming?"
"Oh, yeah. It was pretty clear she was leaving. Can't be the wise counselor when you're married."
"Why not?" Liara wanted to know.
"Sex appeal," Aethyta replied casually. "Most species only pay attention if they want to have sex with you. So you have to be available… mysterious…"
"What? That's not true! Shepard listens to me!"
"And you're single, aren't you?"
"You think Shepard is… no. No!"
Oh God. "That is not happening," I hastened to clarify.
"Oh, I know," Miranda replied. "Otherwise, you'd spend so much time having sex with the entire crew and every random stranger you meet that you'd never get anything done."
"Gee. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Thankfully, Aethyta resumed talking. "Anyway, before Nezzy and I broke up, I made her promise to let you go your own way. No matter what she wanted."
"Really?" Liara whispered.
"I knew you'd be special, kid. Any daughter of hers… I told her 'I know you, Nezzy. You'll want to treat her like a baby bird, but she's gonna raise one hell of a storm with those little wings."
"Little wing?" Liara repeated.
"You okay?" Aethyta frowned.
"Yes. Thanks."
Liara was pretty shaken, though. And I couldn't blame her. 'Little Wing' was an affectionate nickname of Benezia's, one she'd used throughout her daughter's life. And now Liara knew where it came from. Whether she had wondered about it or not, she now had an answer to at least one big question.
"I lost track of Nezzy after we split up," Aethyta went on. "But I like to remember the good ol' days. Better to remember her that way than as… whatever she turned into with that Saren bastard."
"It wasn't her fault," Liara explained. "She was trying to stop Saren. Guide him as a force of good. But she underestimated the strength of the Reapers' influence and got indoctrinated."
"Look, I heard stories about the Reapers messing with your head…"
"They're more than stories," Liara said grimly. "I've seen it. Salarians turned into drooling puppets. Humans turned into raving fanatics. And Cerberus… their leader, the Illusive Man, has been implanting Reaper technology into his own troops—and innocent civilians who were kidnapped and forcibly brainwashed to swell his army's ranks. He thinks he can control them, but every Cerberus soldier is probably a Reaper slave waiting to happen.
"Mother fought the indoctrination with every fibre of her being. She even broke free and helped Shepard on Noveria before… before she… died. She said it was like beating your hands on glass, watching what your body was doing."
Aethyta staggered back in shock. She quickly gripped the bar before she collapsed. "All this time… I'd blamed Nezzy for it. Thousand years old, and I still don't know crap. Thanks for telling me."
The two of them fell silent, each remembering Benezia in their own way. Miranda and I were quiet as well, not knowing what else to do. At last, Aethyta stirred. "Just take care of yourself out there, okay, kid?"
"I will… Dad."
"Oh, before I forget." Aethyta cleared her throat before continuing. "I called in a few favours a while back. Got some commandos—and a couple ex-Eclipse girls—together. They've been running a few errands for me, minor stuff really. They're all yours, if you want."
"Really?"
"Just tell 'em where to go."
Liara couldn't believe it. Neither could I, for that matter. "You're giving me… asari commandos?"
"Well, you're too old for me to buy you a damn pony—oof!"
Aethyta broke off as Liara lunged over the bar and hugged her fiercely. "You're the best father a girl could wish for."
Wow. Asari commandos. Aethyta had rustled up a unit of asari commandos. Come to think of it, that asari who was looking for Grissom Academy amp schematics back at Huerta Memorial said she was talking to a Matriarch Aethyta. Guess she'd been busy doing more than serving drinks to the oblivious inhabitants of the Citadel.
Liara eventually let go of her dad, said her goodbyes and walked away. Seeing Miranda and I, she changed direction to join us. "I met my dad," she said happily.
"Shepard told me," Miranda said, pretending that we hadn't been eavesdropping. "I'm so happy for you."
"Thank you."
"How was it?" I prompted.
"It was… it was wonderful," Liara breathed. "We talked. I got to know more about my mother. And she gave me my own squad of asari commandos!"
"Really?" I gasped, not needing to fake my envy in the slightest. "Lucky."
While Miranda and Liara discussed the best way to make use of these commandos, I resumed my wanderings. (6) I could've visited Kaidan, but it had only been a couple hours. Better to give him some more time, I thought.
To my surprise, I ran into Michael and Rebekah Petrovsky. Again. I first met them during my first year as a Spectre. Rebekah's husband died or a rare heart condition, so her brother-in-law—Michael—suggested that the baby—Jake—undergo in utero gene therapy. Rebekah disagreed due to an unwavering trust in dodgy extranet articles and an appallingly poor grasp of science. I had to stick my nose in and get involved.
After I returned from the grave as a cybernetic ninja zombie, I bumped into them again. They were still arguing about gene therapies, though Rebekhah had thankfully educated herself during the intervening years. In desperation, Michael suggested asking random strangers for their opinion. Not from me, though: I was too busy getting store discounts by making radio ads.
This time, they were wondering whether it would better to keep Jake in daycare and promote his social development or keep him safe at home given the state of the war. I suggested that, whatever decision they make, they should make it soon.
Having better things to do than listen to them run around in circles debating hypothetical situations, I moved on. It wasn't long before I spotted EDI up ahead. "Hello, Shepard," she greeted me.
"Hi EDI," I replied. "Gathering data, are we?"
"That is a safe assumption."
"Anything big and world-shaking? Man's inhumanity to man? Does objective reality exist? That kind of thing?"
"I have noticed many displays of public affection on the Citadel," EDI replied. "The rate seems disproportionately high."
"Everybody could die tomorrow, EDI," I replied. "Hooking up or indulging in the moment are one of the few things they can do."
"I wonder if this is how the krogan feel."
Huh. Never thought of it that way. Doubt many people have. "Maybe," I said at last.
"Another note: I have spoken with many batarian refugees here, Shepard."
"Yeah, I've seen a lot of them in the docking bays," I nodded.
"It may interest you to know that they are much more agreeable when the Hegemony is no longer watching."
You mean they could be more friendly and approachable when the dictatorial, all-seeing State wasn't monitoring their every word? What a shocker! Though that probably explained that batarian preacher I saw earlier. And the batarian refugee who wound up chatting with the runaway from Paris.
"However, the majority of my processing power has been allocated to running scenarios to analyze Jeff's behaviour." She turned her head to Jeff, who was sitting on a nearby bench. He waved. I waved back. EDI tilted her head and added this latest move to her analyses. "I believe he has a strong affectionate attachment to me, but he has not stated it to anyone yet."
Oh. Gee. This was big and world-shaking. Especially since this was an AI tiptoeing around a romantic relationship. Now I kinda felt bad for joking about it earlier.
"Shepard, you have firsthand sexual experience. How do you know when someone is romantically invested?"
I can honestly say I have never been asked that before. Certainly not in that manner. "Okay. First: sex doesn't necessarily have anything to do with romance. One's not a prerequisite for the other. To answer your question… um… they'll usually show signs they can't stop thinking about you. You know… making a special point of talking to you… asking you out… giving you presents… maybe playing music…"
"As the Normandy's AI, I frequently converse with everyone aboard the ship. I lack material wants other than hardware and software upgrades and my core programming does not assign values to music. Perhaps we could discuss how to provoke Jeff into an emotional commitment."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Okay. Stop. Right there." I rubbed my eyes. Clearly this was going to take a little more work than the Petrovskys. What I wouldn't give to have Mom around right now. Or Ellie. "That's not how to think of it. You don't provoke someone into an emotional commitment, okay? A relationship has to develop naturally—at least, a healthy one does. You need chemistry."
"I see." EDI considered that, then said "There are a number of pharmaceuticals I could inject to simulate the desired emotional state."
"No, no, no. I mean personal chemistry. Some kind of shared connection. It shouldn't be forced. Just relax and do something you both like. Something simple. For example… you both like humour."
"Correct. I will see if there are comedic entertainment shows being presented on the Citadel. Scanning… do you think he would like 'The Man Who Hung Himself?' It appears to be about an amorous plastic surgeon."
"Maybe," I shrugged. "You could always run it by him. Look, the important thing is to have a good time, wherever you go and whatever you do. If you're having fun, there's a good chance he will too."
"Then the outcome is an unknown quantity," EDI frowned, "but you are saying I should attempt it anyway."
"Nobody ever fell in love without being a little bit brave," I said.
"I see. I believe you have improved my chances, Shepard." EDI's voice became notably warmer and, dare I say it, more excited. "Thank you."
"No problem."
"If you will excuse me, Shepard. I am currently looking through files and videos of human behaviour."
"Uh…"
"I have 1.24 million windows open, but your request is important to me. Please hold."
Kaidan might be taking the first real steps to seeing the light. Liara finally talked to her dad and got some commandos. EDI just put me on hold after asking me for romantic advice. This day just kept getting stranger and stranger.
"Is it time to return to the Normandy, Shepard? I am getting propositioned with increasing frequency."
That would be my cue to nudge—not provoke—Joker along. Because I don't have enough on my plate, you understand. I left EDI and her 1.24 million windows to join my pilot. "Hey there."
"Hey, Commander." Joker shuffled aside to make room for me and pulled up a news feed on his omni-tool. "Check it out! Big news: the new Blasto movie is breaking opening-week records! There's also a big expose on quasar tournaments, tips on how to make your apartment look bigger, another leak of nude photos from Aishwarya Ashland and… oh, yeah, a big-ass Reaper invasion." The sarcasm in his voice turned into quiet disgust. "These people have no idea."
"Wish I could say I was surprised," I shook my head. "History's shown time after time that when people don't want to believe something, they're really, really good at pretending it's not there. By clinging to something familiar, for instance."
"You say that like it's a good thing," he spat.
"Oh, it sucks," I laughed ruefully. "It's why we're playing catch-up now. But it's better than riots in the streets."
"I guess. I just wish there was a middle ground. You know, a little less gardening advice, a little more war prep."
"You and me both," I groaned. "Hopefully it'll happen… once there's something people can do to help."
Joker looked around and laughed when his eyes fell on EDI. "Speaking of pretending, don't you love how everyone's ignoring the unshackled AI walking around the Presidium?"
"She run into any trouble?"
A grin spread across Joker's face. "No, no, she's my 'mobility assistance mech. Thanks to Vrolik's Syndrome, I'm legally entitled to bring her everywhere. Finally getting some use out of those disability benefits."
Well, she might have been vastly overqualified, but it was sure as hell better than the civvie version of a LOKI light mech. "I'm sure she appreciates getting out to see the sights. Whole different perspective than scanning them or tapping into vid-cams."
"Ah, she's earned a little shore leave. Just like the rest of us."
"I'll let the two of you enjoy the sights, then. Carry on."
"See ya, Shepard."
My next few encounters were decidedly less enjoyable. In fact, one of them was downright heartbreaking.
It started with the cheating wife who was seriously thinking of leaving her husband—who had enlisted to defend ungrateful people like her—only to realize that the asari she was fooling around with wasn't interested in a serious relationship. Surprise!
Then there was the idiot who was accosting a salarian sales clerk—who was on break and trying to contact the family he hadn't heard from in days—for the eleventh time. All to get a refund for a lousy fifteen-credit toaster oven. Apparently he hadn't realized that there might be more important priorities, what with a galactic war going on. I swear you could see the rusty gears creaking as the novel concept of being considerate for others slowly seeped in.
It was honestly enough to make you wonder why the hell I bothered with all this crap. Running around like mad, risking my neck and the necks of those around me, all for a pack of ungrateful, selfish ingrates who would rather wallow in the shallowness of their pathetic little lives. But then I saw one of the people I was here to see and, well, it all came crashing down.
Ereba was an asari who I'd seen during my preparations to assault the Collector base. The first time was when Charr, a krogan with an unusual appreciation for poetry, was trying to woo her on Illium. Whatever I said must've sunk in, because they later took a trip to Tuchanka—where I bumped into them again when helping Grunt join Clan Urdnot and Mordin deal with his former protégé Maelon.
Since then, they'd apparently gotten married. Ereba had moved to the Citadel, where she was working at the Nos Astra Sporting Goods kiosk. And Charr… Charr was one of the scouts sent to Utukku.
I took a deep breath and approached her after she'd dealt with a somewhat thoughtless customer. "Excuse me," I said softly. "I'm sorry. I've got a message from your husband. You need to hear this. Maybe in private?"
She froze. Dread crept across her face. She shakily took the datapad from my hands, went off to a corner and started the recording.
"O Blue Rose of Illium, if these humble words reach you, then I have joined my ancestors."
"No… no-no-no…" Ereba whimpered.
"My dream was to be by your side, a weed beside your beauty, twining together in the warm Tuchanka sun."
"Oh… Charr…"
"But if my last days must be with krannt instead of kindness, still, I will remember the perfume of your scent and the soft touch of your petals. Let my broken bones build a wall around your garden, so you and the flower we planted together can grow safe and strong."
"Thank you," Ereba managed, tears streaming down her face. "I should—I need to go."
"Of course. Again, I'm so sorry for your loss."
I watched her stumble away, guided by a concerned colleague and muttered a heartfelt curse. Damn it, I hated this war.
A salarian bumped into me as I was walking away from the kiosk. "Excuse me," he apologized. "Yes, hello? It's me. Sellea. Have you read the reports?" Sellea waited for the other person on the comm to reply before continuing. "This is problematic. We must find a way to stabilize the heating units so the water temperatures can remain steady. The colony's location is hardly ideal for our species. The clutch will be imperiled if we do not act soon." (7) "Of course, I'll do everything I can to help. We're family, after all. But it won't be easy: the extreme weather conditions may require technology that is not readily available on the market. Yes. I know…"
And then there was the female nurse talking to her colleague. "I don't think I can do this anymore," she confessed.
"I know what you mean," he said. "I thought our training prepared us for everything, but this…"
"Every time that asari commando sees me, she just starts screaming. I can even hear it when I'm trying to sleep now."
Oh geez. She was probably talking about that commando with the serious case of PTSD. The one hounding her shrink for a gun.
"I'm supposed to be helping her, but I feel like I'm breaking her world all over again every time she sees me," she continued.
"It's not your fault," the male nurse tried. "Any human would probably trigger that reaction for her at this point."
She shook her head. "No. I looked up the file on that colony she was at. That girl she keeps talking about? We look alike. I shouldn't even be allowed in to help anymore."
"You do too much work to leave just because of one patient," he insisted. "Just tell your supervisor what you found out and ask to be transferred to another ward. I can't tell you how much I'd love to have another nurse who knows what she's doing."
"Oh geez, I'm sorry," she winced. "Here I am going on and on, and I never even asked how you were doing."
His story reminded me of Ellie's first job. I remember the dinner we had a month after she started. During the appetizers, she went on and on about how lucky she was to work there. Over the main course and dessert, she enthused about the challenges of the workplace. It wasn't until we broke out the wine that she began revealing how the penny-pinchers running the place imposed all sorts of stupid schedules and shift duties without any idea of the impact, refused to discipline or fire anyone who didn't pull their weight because they were concerned it would reflect poorly on them for hiring the lazy bodies in the first place and hadn't hired enough people to replace the workers who had retired. Suffice it to say that things hadn't changed. So it was up to the poor souls on the front lines to grit their teeth and work overtime to get things done. Just like Ellie did all those years ago.
Meanwhile, other souls—specifically a human woman and a volus—had other concerns on their mind. Most of them revolving around the ad for that Sanctuary place. "Thinking of going?" the human asked. "To Sanctuary, I mean. Sorry, I thought you were looking at the ad."
"*hiss* Of course not.*hiss* Sanctuary's a scam. *hiss*"
"What?" She looked shocked.
"*hiss* Oh, count on it. *hiss* Somebody's making money off people's fear. "*hiss* Wish I'd thought of it myself. *hiss*"
"You don't think Sanctuary's real?"
"*hiss* Real prefab shelters and cheap nutrient paste, maybe. *hiss* The profit margin must be higher than a hanar's water bill. *hiss*"
The woman glared down at the volus. "How can you think about profits at a time like this?"
For his part, the volus just shook his head. "*hiss* What's your name, dear?"
"Um… Sara?"
"*hiss* Sara, have you ever heard of Elkoss Combine?"
"Sure. Don't they make, um, everything?"
Including crap weapons that were sold at bulk rates, yep. Not that the volus was about to admit it. He extended a hand. "*hiss* Rupe Elkoss. *hiss* Pleasure to meet you."
"So you're making money off of this war."
"*hiss* Are you kidding? *hiss* Elkoss Combine sells weapons, armour and funeral services. *hiss* If you can arm them and bury them, you never have to fly coach. *hiss* Isn't that a saying?"
Sara looked as disgusted as I was. "I don't think so."
"*hiss* Well, it should be. *hiss* You know, Sara, while you worry about the war, I'm making plans for what comes after it. *hiss* When our muscular allies wipe out the Reapers, idiots who paid through the cloaca to get to Sanctuary will have nothing. *hiss* I, however, will be rolling in credits and future ex-wives."
"Well… if you say so, maybe I… maybe I won't go to Sanctuary."
"*hiss* Now you get it! *hiss* Trust me, Sara. You'll thank me later." (8)
"Refugees from Reaper-occupied colonies are being put in makeshift camps in several docking bays," a media VI reported as I entered the Embassies. I slowed down to listen to the news as I made my way towards the human embassy. "Fierce fighting continues as the Reapers have occupied most of Palaven. It appears as though the turian forces may lose their planet. Primarch Victus has requested a war summit of Council races. Reports suggest he has also extended an invitation to the krogan."
Oh. Right. That would be thanks to Emily. After careful consideration, I decided that she could reveal that much. Though I know for a fact she didn't say anything about how well the turians were doing. Some other idiot thought that up.
"Asari intelligence has reported sightings of Reaper forces in the Silean Nebula and the Nimbus Cluster. Using Hades Gamma as a staging area, Reaper forces have rapidly expanded into the Gemini Sigma and Voyager Clusters."
Aw, crap.
"Humanity has suffered a heavy blow as Arcturus Station, capital of the Systems Alliance, has fallen to Reaper forces. The volus homeworld, Irune, has also fallen. Refugees are reportedly fleeing to turian colonies."
The news about Arcturus Station was a bit outdated. Maybe the bit about Irune too. Though I wasn't surprised that volus refugees were finding haven with the turians. The Vol Protectorate was a client state of the Turian Hierarchy, after all. Speaking of which…
After chatting with Avina and tuning out her PR spiel, I got directions to one of the volus diplomats. He was busy telling anyone who would listen about how the Vol Protectorate really, really, really wanted to help the Turian Hierarchy and the Systems Alliance—particularly with a certain construction project. How there was this magic Prothean obelisk that might have helped if only it wasn't lost in the Shrike Abyssal. Imagine his surprise when I told him he could pick it up in Bay D24. Imagine my surprise at how poorly the Alliance had kept the Crucible Project a secret.
Next on my list of politicos to meet was Dominic Osoba, the human ambassador. He was busy arguing with someone on the comm. "But what I need is proof," he said angrily. "I can't take your word on this. Those assumptions merely leave my son stranded in enemy territory! Bilal may still be alive."
Um… actually…
"Yes, I have spoken to you before. Why do you refuse to help me? If it's possible that my son is alive, I will not rest until he's found!" Osoba paused and listened to the reply. "Yes, his squad did return from their mission on Benning. Yes, I could, but they ignored me. Too busy trying to get drunk. Refused to even look me in the eye! Why won't you help me? I simply want my son found! I fully understand the situation. Of course, I read through the names of the dead every day, but… please! Please, a few more minutes of searching could mean a lifetime of peace for my family. Hello? Damn it!"
Osoba turned off the comm with a curse and spun around. I stepped aside just in time to avoid a collision. "Having trouble?" I asked.
"My son is missing… and 'bureaucratic compassion' seems to be in short supply," Osoba replied. "I'm offering a reward for any information on Bilal. If he's alive, we want him home. If not, then… then we can begin to mourn him."
And here we go. "I'm afraid I found this on a body during a recent visit to Benning," I confessed, passing over some scorched dog tags. "I'm sorry, but I think they belonged to your son."
He took the dog tags and read the ID numbers. "Ah, yes. It's… what I was afraid of."
"You… don't look surprised," I tentatively observed.
"His mates… I found them at one of the bars. Purgatory, I think. They wouldn't talk to me, but they looked like men drinking for a lost friend. At least now we know. Thank you."
"You're… you're welcome," I said. Then I watched him leave. Second time today that I had to deliver bad news. Just another perk of being the boss.
Damn it, I hated this war.
Helping the volus contribute to the Crucible and Osoba find some peace were only minor objectives. The main reason I was here in the Embassies was for Spectre business. Besides, Kaidan probably hadn't finished processing things yet. Hell, maybe Anderson would talk some more sense into him. Hey, if the genophage could be cured, anything could happen.
While I was here, though, I thought I'd drop by C-Sec and see how Bailey was doing. Long story short: refugees were pouring in, rumours were flying around, tension and paranoia was rising through the roof and C-Sec was running ragged.
With that done, it was time to meet a fellow Spectre. The first Spectre I met—Nihlus Kryik—was killed by the second Spectre—human-hater and indoctrinated nutjob Saren Arterius. I killed Spectre number three—Tela Vasir—who was in cahoots with the former Shadow Broker. So I hoped that the fourth time would be different, because I'm pretty sure I met my quota. He was salarian instead of turian or asari, if that made any difference.
"Jondum Bau," he introduced himself. "Special Tactics and Recon. Thank you for taking the time to meet me."
We shook hands. "You mentioned some intel suggesting indoctrination of high-level hanar officials," I recalled. "That's a damning accusation. What have you got?"
"Evidence of an Alliance black-ops team raiding a batarian research station. The batarians were studying technology that, at the time, was of unknown origins. We now know that they were of Reaper origin."
My eyes widened. "The batarians had Reaper tech?"
"Yes."
Damn. That would explain why the Reapers targeted the Bahak system—deep in batarian territory—and why Khar'Shan fell faster than Earth did. If the batarians were studying Reaper tech and had been indoctrinated, there was no telling how much havoc they could have caused. "What else?"
"The Alliance raid turned into a massacre and the team ended up with nothing. Your people faked a power failure to hide the incident."
"Because the batarians would've gone to war if they'd found out," I nodded. "But how does this implicate the hanar?"
"They maintained discreet grey-market trade relationships with the batarians," Bau explained, "and led the Alliance to the station in the first place. We suspect those hanar operatives escaped with batarian hardware. If it contained Reaper tech, and your reports on the Reapers are accurate, then they could already be indoctrinated."
"At the very least, we need to confirm they haven't been subverted," I agreed. "Where did you get this evidence?"
"It was an anonymous 'gift,' but I believe it came from a woman named Kasumi Goto."
Years of dissembling and dealing with nosy superiors paid off. "Really?" I asked, making sure that Bau didn't see the slightest hint of recognition in my face or voice. "What can you tell me about her?"
"She's a thief I've been chasing for several years."
"That must be some thief," I said.
"A master thief," Bau corrected. "Her intelligence and skill are almost salarian."
Kasumi would be pleased as punch to hear that. "I'm sure she'd appreciate praise from the Spectre who's been chasing her for years."
"I only need her data to further my current investigation," Bau smiled. "I admire her personally. And since she sent me this evidence, I assume her feelings are mutual."
"I'm sure they are," I said. "Okay, I understand the gravity of the situation. How can I help?"
"Based on what I've found, the hanar operative has to be amongst the diplomatic staff on the Citadel. I don't have a public name, though, and the hanar will go to ground if I make a formal inquiry. So I've been forced to try a more indirect approach: tracking suspicious transmissions to the hanar homeworld. I could use another set of eyes to help narrow the list down. And when we apprehend the suspect, I'm hoping your experience in dealing with indoctrinated people will turn things in our favour."
"Makes sense," I agreed. "Have you tried the Spectre office?"
"You mean the Spectre Requisitions district office? They only opened that a month ago. Believe it or not, I don't have clearance to go in. My biometrics aren't on file yet. Administrative delay."
He looked annoyed. I couldn't blame him. "My biometrics are on file. Why don't I start there then?"
"Thanks, Shepard. Here's my comm frequency if you find anything. And for the record—not everyone doubted your concerns about the Reapers. I just hope we're not too late."
We shook hands and parted ways. As Bau headed down the hall, I entered the Spectre Requisitions office. The doors had just closed when a voice came out of nowhere. "So… remember when you helped me get Keiji's greybox from Donovan Hock? The one with information that could start a war?"
I turned around just in time to see Kasumi decloak. "Information like an Alliance black ops raid on a batarian research lab that went FUBAR really fast?"
"I figured it wouldn't hurt to leak it now," Kasumi shrugged. (9) "Especially if there really is a jellyfish out there who's… well, crazier than usual."
"Are you here for any reason in particular or are you just testing the security?" I asked, crossing my fingers.
"Did that. So disappointing. Maybe digging up dirt on the hanar will be more interesting. If you don't mind me tagging along. While cloaked, of course."
"I'd appreciate it," I grinned.
Kasumi returned the grin before activating her cloak again. "Really?" I asked as she disappeared. "It's not like there's anyone here."
"Better safe than sorry," her disembodied voice echoed out.
True, I conceded. With that decided, I headed over to the Spectre Terminal. Yeah, that's right. I went to the Spectre Terminal in the Spectre office to find out what Spectres could get away with using their Spectre-level access codes. Try saying that three times fast. I didn't find anything labelled 'ID of Indoctrinated Hanar Nutjob,' but I did confirm that Spectre-level access codes could be used to authorize all sorts of things.
Like offering the original engineers for the Normandy SR-2 full pardons. Gabriella Daniels and Ken Donnelly were amongst the few men and women who surrendered with me when I turned the ship over to the Alliance. They'd always maintained that they left the Alliance and joined Cerberus solely to fight the Collectors and the Reapers. That, I could agree on. So it was an easy choice to release them and reassign them to the Normandy—especially as they were still cooling their heels in Citadel lockup.
After that, I entertained myself with another handy perk of Spectre authority: the right to bypass privacy settings and track financial data, transit records and personal communications of just about anyone—including diplomatic staff assigned to embassies. However, I couldn't open the relevant files from here without setting off all sorts of surveillance countermeasures. I'd have to go on site to access the files. I downloaded the NavPoints of any consoles and areas that might be useful to my omni-tool before contacting Bau. "It's Shepard," I said when he answered. "What's your status?"
"I'm checking security reports. Can you track the transfers coming from the hanar embassy?"
"Great minds think alike," I replied. "I was just leaving to do that. I'll contact you when I learn something."
"Bau's got a good plan," Kasumi whispered after he signed off. "Hanar are predictable. Anything out of the ordinary in their terminal use should narrow down our list of suspects."
I left the Spectre office and headed for the stairs. There were a couple turian guards around, which meant I had to wait before continuing the conversation. "So you approve of Bau," I said once the coast was clear.
"Absolutely. He's a good Spectre. The galaxy needs more like him."
"And the fact that he's been trying to arrest you?"
I could almost hear her shrug. "Well, nobody's perfect."
The hanar really were as predictable as Kasumi had suggested, because even I could pick out the anomalies. "Bau, I have some possible hits," I reported. "Got some strange money transfers from Bolohn, and Oloon is sending a lot of data."
"Bolohn's clean," he reassured me. "His money transfers are to support his mistress. Not sure about Oloon. I'll pull his bio."
"All right. I'll check Oloon's personal records and pull his recent messages," I said. "Shepard out."
That meant a visit up the elevator and over to one of the service terminals. "Can I just note how odd it is for a hanar to have a mistress?" Kasumi asked.
"Hey, if there's hanar porn, why wouldn't there be hanar mistresses?" I shrugged.
"And you know this how?"
"Ever hear of Irene Demova?"
"No."
"Human porn star who was big until the 2170s, when a disgruntled ex-boyfriend infected her website with a computer virus. Which millions of people throughout the galaxy found out when they tried accessing said website to watch her latest human/hanar porn flick."
"Again: you know this how?"
"My friend was one of those people. That porn virus singlehandedly wiped out every computer on the base and all the files they contained—including my music library."
"I was wondering why you insisted on storing those songs on your omni-tool," Kasumi mused. "All right: one mystery solved. Now let's help Bau unravel the mystery of Mr. Oloon."
"Speaking of Bau, if he catches up with you, I can grant you immunity," I offered.
"On the condition that I join up?" Her voice became much more nervous. "Last time I did that, you roped me into a suicide mission."
"I didn't rope you into anything. The Illusive Man hired you to help me," I reminded her. "Besides, I didn't say you had to join up."
"You were working your way around to it," she said sharply.
A pack of gossiping asari joined us, and then a turian, and then we passed a couple humans. Basically there was so much company that we had to table that conversation. We didn't get a moment's peace until I arrived at the service terminal and punched in my Spectre codes. As advertised, they made short work of the cyber-security. I read through Oloon's e-mail and contacted Bau. "He's doing some heavy lobbying for the hanar to support the war effort," I reported.
"So he's probably not indoctrinated," Bau mused. "Who's opposing him?"
"An unnamed hanar recently posted here from Kahje. If he just arrived here, then the transit records would have him on file. Let's see… looks like I can access them at the embassy's travel department."
"The department is just one desk with a computer."
"Hey, I'm just telling you what I found. Talk to you soon." I turned off the comm and shook my head. What I wouldn't give to have my old hacking programs. Or… "Remember that stuff we used on Illium?"
"To hack the Grand Mirage and get that Cerberus intel?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I don't have that kind of gear. So we'll have to do things the old-fashioned way."
"Figures," I sighed.
To go to the so-called 'travel department,' I had to go through another docking bay-turned-refugee camp. All the civvies there were way too busy with their own problems to worry about some human who was supposedly talking to himself. Or the voice following him. "It all comes down to the war… and you trying to pull everyone into it."
Where did this come from? One minute, she was saying hi out of the blue. The next, she was offering to help track down indoctrinated hanar. Now she was obsessing over my diabolical plans to recruit her. Plans I would have never thought of until she mentioned it, I might add. "Would you rather the Reapers win?"
"I'd rather spend whatever time I have left with Keiji."
"Keiji..." Oh no. "Keiji wouldn't want you to spend all your time plugged into that thing."
"Well… he shouldn't have died, then."
I was afraid of this. Her condition for accepting TIMmy's recruitment offer to help me—aside from the pay cheque—was to track down Keiji's greybox. The thought of destroying it, the secrets it held and all his memories almost destroyed her. And after she got it back, she spent an awful lot of time going down memory lane.
Come to think of it, she spent even more time plugged into the greybox after we took down the Collector base. At the time, it didn't mean anything. In light of our recent discussions… was I reading too much into it, or was she hiding in the past because it was easier and less painful than the harsh realities of the present?
But that could wait. I'd found the hanar embassy's travel department—which for some reason was in an offsite location in a random docking bay. Whatever. I plugged in my codes, did some digging and opened a comm channel. "I've got a list of new hanar arrivals, Bau. Forwarding them to you now."
"Got them. Damn."
That didn't sound good.
"These are all face names. The hanar names from the Alliance raid are soul names."
Oh. Damn indeed. Hanar had two names: a face name that was used as a general label for strangers and acquaintances and a soul name that was reserved for close friends and relations. It's like Bau was looking for someone named John and I found out the prime suspect was Mr. Doe. Doesn't really help.
"And hanar soul names are private," Bau said, confirming what I already knew. "There's no public record."
"Ideas?"
"Can you get back to their personal communications?"
"You're thinking we might find some names there," I guessed. "Worth a shot. Hang on."
"So how's the rest of the gang?" Kasumi asked when I closed the comm channel. "Met up with anybody else?"
"Miranda is helping out on the Normandy," I said.
"And?"
"Little too busy to go dating, but… she's good. We're good."
"I hoped so. Anyone else?"
"Garrus is helping out too."
"He never could pass up a good fight," she laughed.
"Joker and Dr. Chakwas are back," I continued. "EDI got herself a new mech body to pilot, so she's actually been joining us on missions. And we bumped into Jack a while back—she was teaching biotic kids at Grissom Academy. Now she's joining some of them as a biotic support unit attached to the 103rd Marine Division. Grunt too. He helped us deal with some rachni that the Reapers modified."
"Okay, okay, okay. What about Jacob?"
"Dunno. Haven't heard from him." I reached the terminal and began bypassing its encryption again.
Kasumi made an appreciative noise. "See, Jacob could've gotten me back on the Normandy."
"I thought you were happy with your memories of Keiji," I said innocently.
"Hey, I'm nostalgic. Not dead."
"Speaking of not dead… Bau, I've tapped into the personal communications. Patching you in now. Any mention of soul names in the correspondence?"
"One moment… no, maybe, no, no—wait, wait, wait! Yes! I've got it. A recent arrival. Zymandis. Soul name: Regards the Works of the Enkindlers in Despair."
From what I understood, soul names were a little more poetic than usual. Though this sounded like some pretty dark poetry.
"Let's see… yes, I can confirm he was with the Alliance team that massacred the batarians. And he's been on 'special research assignment' ever since."
"Sounds like he got his tentacles on some Reaper tech," I mused as I entered the elevator, an invisible Kasumi close on my heels.
"Looks that way. I'm sending you the NavPoint for his office. I'll meet you there."
Sure enough, Bau was waiting for me. The two of us—plus a cloaked Kasumi—entered Zymandis's office. We stepped aside to let a human leave, then closed the door behind us. "Zymandis?" I asked.
"Or should I say, Regards the Works of the Enkindlers in Despair?" Bau added pointedly.
"It seems this one has been apprehended," RTWOTEID murmured. (10) "But confinement is irrelevant. The work of the Enkindlers cannot be stopped."
"What are you talking about?" I demanded. "Why are you trying to help the Reapers? They wiped out the Protheans." Well, except for Javik, but I didn't bother bringing that up.
"We obtained information regarding the Enkindlers from classified sources," the crazy diplomat replied. "As you are aware, Commander Shepard, the Protheans eventually became the Collectors. And the Collectors serve the Reapers."
I think I could see where this was going. Religious nuttiness, meet wonky logic and indoctrination. "You've got to be kidding me," I groaned.
"Therefore, as a faithful servant of the Enkindlers, we too must serve the Reapers."
Now I could try to reason with the guy. I'd done it with Saren, after all. But then, Saren and I had tangled on and off for the better part of a year. RTWOTEID and I had only met for a few minutes. Besides, Saren might be a ruthless son of a bitch, but he was never religious.
So I had a feeling that there wasn't much point wasting my breath. Still, I could at least try. "You big… stupid… jellyfish. That is the single dumbest thing I have ever heard."
What? I never said I was going to try very hard.
Kasumi proved to be a little more diplomatic. "You know," she whispered, "I support religious freedom for all species, but that's just crazy."
"You skepticism does not matter. When the Enkindlers uplift us as their chosen sapients, the galaxy will bear witness."
"The galaxy will be too busy being dead to bear witness," I disagreed. "You're insane, and we can't allow you to endanger your faith, your planet and the galaxy. We're taking you into custody."
"Your belief in your victory is mistaken."
"How so?" I challenged.
"Our planetary defence network is largely automated. It can be disabled with a single computer virus, provided it is sophisticated enough… which I have just uploaded."
Aw, crap.
"Damn it!" Bau cursed. "Wait," he said a second later. "A virus like that would be detected unless sent on low-priority channels, which have a time-lag. I may be able to block the upload." His fingers began rapidly typing away on his omni-tool.
Then the human we'd seen earlier burst back into the office, grabbed Bau, flung him against the wall and began strangling him. "You may be delayed," RTWOTEID said.
"Help him!" Kasumi cried out, decloaking and sliding over a desk on her way to a nearby computer. "I'll handle this!"
Worked for me. I strode over and punched the human's lights out. Bau cleared his throat, glared at RTWOTEID and shot him at point-blank range. Whatever works. "Kasumi?"
"Got it! Upload's disabled. Looks like we're in the… uh, oh."
That didn't sound good. Neither did the beeping. "'Uh, oh?'" I repeated. "Whaddaya mean, 'uh oh'?"
"He's got some kind of failsafe. Get down!"
Bau and I dove for cover just as the computer exploded. When we got up, half the desk was gone. There was shrapnel and scorch marks up the length of the wall.
And Kasumi was… gone.
"She was here the entire time," Bau belatedly realized.
"She was an old friend," I said bleakly.
"I intended to arrest her."
"She helped me take down the Collectors, she sent you intel that started this whole investigation in the first place and she just gave her life to save the hanar homeworld," I snapped.
"Point taken," Bau decided after a moment's thought. "It was an honour to work with you, Shepard. When the time comes, I'll be there to return the favour… with a few friends."
We shook hands. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said before leaving.
I waited until the door closed. Then I did a quick scan of the room to search for bugs and other surveillance devices. It wasn't until the scan came up negative that I called out "You can come out now."
Kasumi shimmered into view. "How'd you know?"
Oh, thank God! "Lucky guess," I said casually, masking the relief I felt. Well, most of it. "Thanks for helping."
"That's as far as it goes," she warned. "There's no way you're recruiting me to fight in a galactic war."
Figured as much. Thankfully, I had an idea: "Can I recruit you for something else?"
"No."
"At least let me give you the sales pitch."
"No. Well. Fine, make it quick."
"All the ships and guns in the galaxy won't stop the Reapers. We need something else. And we have something else: blueprints for a superweapon that the Protheans were trying to build when they were fighting the Reapers. We're calling it Project Crucible."
"Okay. So why do you need me? I'm a thief, not a scientist or an engineer."
"You're the best thief in the galaxy who's spent a lifetime figuring out and bypassing unfamiliar technologies. That kind of expertise could be invaluable. Besides, it wouldn't surprise me if they needed someone with your skill set to, shall we say, liberate additional tech and resources for the Crucible. And there's one more thing…"
"Yeah?"
"Whether you're hanging around wherever the Crucible's being built or going off to find things to help build the Crucible, I'm willing to bet that there'll be a lot of expensive tech just lying around. It would be a shame if someone else snatched it up first. It's not like they're going to check your pockets at the end. Because they'd have to find you first."
"You say the nicest things." She thought about it before finally relenting. "All right, I'm in."
"Woohoo!"
Kasumi laughed and headed for the door. "Oh, Shep?"
"Yeah?"
"Nice working with you again."
"You too."
By the time Kasumi and I parted ways, it had been several hours since Kaidan had that little intervention with Anderson. Hell, it was almost time for dinner. I guess I could've put it off…
…aw, hell.
Truth was, maybe I was a little scared. The more I stalled, the more people I randomly talked to, the more things I found to do… the more I could put off seeing Kaidan. Seeing his face. Seeing his eyes. Hearing his voice. Because maybe I didn't want to see that look of disgust again. That accusing glare. Those horrible, painful words that he threw at me like twisted pieces of barbed wire. Maybe Anderson had managed to shake some sense into him. But if he hadn't…. I don't know if I had it in me to go through all that crap again.
Sadly, there was only one way to find out. I'd stalled long enough as it was. Time to visit Kaidan and see what he had to say. For better or for worse.
By the time I returned to his room, though, he had a visitor. "I'd like an answer, Major," Councillor Udina said. "The galaxy has need of exceptional soldiers like you—now, more than ever."
"You'll have it soon, Councillor. I promise."
"I look forward to it." Udina got up and turned around. "Shepard," he greeted me.
He didn't seem very happy to see me. I guess some things never change. "Udina. How are things going?"
"Wonderful," he said sarcastically. "I've spent days begging for ships to transport troops and refugees, food to feed everyone and agreeing to loan after outrageous loan to finance everything. I've spent days on end trying to convince the other races not to give up on humanity—and then you come out with the most ridiculous plan ever!"
"Um…"
"Did you get hit one too many times, Shepard? Because that's the only thing that could explain this… this idiocy! Getting the turians and the krogan to join forces? You'd have a better chance of getting the Reapers to agree to a ceasefire and negotiate a truce than getting those two to work together. Why don't you just admit you don't have a clue what the hell you're doing and step aside so the rest of us can get to work?"
"Actually, we've made quite a bit of progress."
"To curing the genophage," he sneered. "Even if I believed that wasn't just a pipe dream, do you know how much destruction and havoc you'd be unleashing by making the krogan fertile again? The Reapers are bad enough, you know. We don't need the krogan on top of it all. But you don't care about that, of course. No, as usual it's up to me to clean up your mess."
Udina stormed off before I could say anything. I was almost relieved, to be honest. Most of our previous encounters had been spent arguing with each other. It was kinda nice to return to that. Reassuring, even. "Well, that went well," I said aloud.
"At least it's par for the course," Kaidan offered. "I'm not gonna lie: talking cordially with Udina is one of the weirdest things I've ever done."
"I know the feeling."
"Anyway, thanks for coming. You just missed snack time." He stopped for a second, then made a face. "Actually, that's probably a good thing."
"Maybe," I shrugged. "Though I've always enjoyed their jello." I found a chair and pulled it up. It was the first time I'd seen him since he was rushed out to Huerta Memorial. He looked all right. Hadn't lost any weight or anything, and it was clear he'd been keeping in shape. Face still looked like crap, though, what with all the bruises. "So Udina was trying to get an answer from you about the Spectre position?
"It's a big honour… a huge responsibility. Just need to be sure." He shifted on his bed and grimaced. "Something wrong?" I asked.
"I'm so ready to get out of here, Shepard," he groaned. "You can't tell, but I'm tied to this bed by medical red tape. I mean Doc… Doc says I'm good to go, but then she always finds 'just one more test' to run."
"You doing okay?" I frowned.
"My implant got a little… rattled, so Doc wants me to keep the biotics offline for a bit. It's really no big deal."
"Your implant got rattled, your doctor wants you to lay off on the biotics and she's running tests," I summarized. "That doesn't seem like 'no big deal' to me."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," he sighed.
"Now that I've said all that: need me to break you out?" I murmured.
He laughed. "I'll let you know."
"I'm glad you asked me to come," I offered. "It's good to see you're going to be okay."
"Thanks," Kaidan smiled.
"You almost died on my watch. I'm not gonna lie to you: it was pretty horrible to see."
"I can imagine. Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"I want to make sure—after Mars, after Horizon. You and me, we're good?"
Good? That, I didn't know. I mean, there were some damn hurtful things he'd said back on Mars. And Horizon. But fighting alongside him on Mars had brought back memories. Memories of a better time. "You tell me," I said. "Are we going to be able to get past what happened on Horizon?"
"I'd like to, Shepard," he replied. "I'd like to move past the harsh words and be… friends, at least."
"So how do we fix it?" I asked.
Kaidan took a deep breath before looking me squarely in the eyes. "I'll admit, I own a lot of that. You were standing right in front of me, and I was… I shut you down. I closed my eyes to everything I saw, stopped listening to everything you said and… and I called you a traitor. And a lot worse. I'm sorry."
"Okay."
"Okay," he repeated. "So, let's just put it behind us and get on with what's important right now."
"What? Just bury it? Just like that?"
"Well… if not bury it, then forgive it. I've been thinking about that, especially in the last few hours. I think… if we're gonna get past Horizon—and Mars—we have to remember that there's more to our past then all the hateful words I threw at you and all your replies that fell on deaf ears."
"We've been through hell together, had each other's backs," I said, finally deciding to throw him a bone. "That kind of bond is hard to break."
"No, not just that," he shook his head. "You were my commander, sure. But you listened, too. We… we went through Ash's death together."
"Yeah," I said quietly. "We did."
"If I had listened to you the same way you listened to me… maybe things wouldn't be so damn awkward between us. I can't take back what I said. All I can do is try harder. Listen harder. So what do you say: are we good?" (11)
"We're good," I decided. "It was great to have you back on the Normandy."
"Thanks."
"Feel like we've cleared the air?" I asked.
"Yeah," he nodded. "You know, I'm not sure that I've been wrong about Cerberus… but I've been wrong about you."
"Glad to hear that," I smiled. "So give me the update. What's new with you… Major?"
"Major. Yeah."
"Congrats," I offered. "There's obviously been a lot going on."
"Anderson asked me to take over a spec ops program. First Special Operations, Biotics Division. We're recruiting the most talented human biotics from around the galaxy."
"Focus?"
"Covert, high-risk missions. Turned it down at first. I mean, teaching?" Kaidan shook his head. "I prefer to get my hands dirty."
"Anderson can be pretty persuasive," I chuckled.
"Yeah," he agreed. "Bit of a hard-ass, but you can't argue with his kind of experience. Wouldn't take no. Said it had to be me."
"With your history, you're the perfect choice."
"True. Human biotics are…" he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "We're different," he finally decided. "No, it's true," he insisted when I opened my mouth to protest. "Most people in the galaxy still see us as freaks. But you have to come to terms with that, just like you have to realize that it's not true, you can make a difference out there and to hell with anyone who can't or won't understand. Accepting all of that, embracing it, can be the difference between success and sitting at home in your PJs taking red sand."
I guess that was true. I never knew what it was like, being a biotic. If I had those abilities, sure I would be able to do a hell of a lot, but I also would have been exposed to a different way of life. Looked at the galaxy in a different way. Have the galaxy look at me in a different way.
"Does all that acceptance include rushing back to duty?" I asked. "You've been through some serious trauma. Sure you want right back in the thick of it?"
"Are you kidding?" he asked in disbelief. "I want to kick the Reapers straight to hell. Cerberus too. People near death say their lives flash before their eyes. Well, the future flashed for me—the anguish… the families… the children… it made me determined to live. I need to do something—Shepard, to save at least a few lives."
"Well, at least make sure you're in tip-top shape before doing something," I told him. "I mean, you said your implant had been rattled."
"Ah, the medical gibberish was a bit more impressive, but that's what I took away—rattled. Found a great doc at HQ that's fascinated by the L2 implant." He rolled his eyes in embarrassment. "I'm kind of her pet project. She came all the way over here to check up on me. The headaches are as bad as ever, but she's got me on a regimen of acupuncture, meds… and some nasty-tasting concoction. Won't tell me what it is. But my biotics… are stronger than ever. When she lets me try them out, anyway. Maybe some things get better with age."
"Or maybe you have," I suggested.
"More experienced? Yeah, could be. I think I'm a better soldier than when I served with you. But it's probably 'cuz of all the lessons I took away from all those months we spent together."
"So are you searching the crates for loot?"
"Not yet. Baby steps, Shepard."
We shared a brief laugh. "Where's your family?" I had to ask. "Are they safe?"
"My family…" Kaidan took a deep breath. "My parents live in Vancouver."
Aw, crap.
"But Dad's family owns an orchard in the BC interior. They were headed out there on a shuttle the day of the attack."
"Heard from them?"
Kaidan shook his head. "No, not yet. But I hope… I'm hoping Dad's Alliance training has kept them safe. Must be killing them not knowing where I am.
"I should let you get back to the Normandy," he said, when it became clear we'd exhausted any current topics of conversation. "Wish I could come with you."
"Take care of yourself, Kaidan," I told him, getting to my feet. "We need you at a hundred percent."
"Will do. Thanks for coming."
(1): This added approximately 40 275 credits to the Citadel military defence fund.
(2): A complacent attitude that was all too common amongst the residents of the Citadel during the first half of the Reaper War.
(3): Readers will recall that this distinction was quite important to Shepard.
(4): As far as I can recall, that was the first time Shepard ever talked to me about his father—and the first time he revealed how much it had affected him.
(5): I had not realized how… frank my father was.
(6): These commandoes would eventually be sent to bolster the Asari Second Fleet.
(7): While it is commonly known that salarians are amphibian in nature, few people are aware how they reproduce—once a year in a clutch of dozens of eggs. Approximately 10% of the eggs are fertilized, which will produce females. The rest will yield male offspring.
(8): Rupe Elkoss would be proved right about Sanctuary, though not for the reasons he said.
(9): Shepard clearly chose to reveal the contents of the greybox in his personal logs for that reason.
(10): An acronym for Zymandis's soul name. Unlike Shepard's usual penchant for insulting nicknames, this alternative form of address may have been chosen for simplicity of use.
(11): While this would not completely make up for the things he'd done, this was a step towards repairing their relationship.