"Don't watch the clock, do what it does - Keep Going." - Sam Levenson
Chapter 18.2 - Race Against Time: Citadel
You just knew when Shepard was in the same room as you.
It could be rather subtle cues, like how she moved. Some people you can tell apart by how their footsteps sound.
Some cues are more obvious, conversations becoming more hushed, or greetings being exchanged. The vicinity of a ships' captain makes the crew behave vastly different - and Shepard's presence 'on-deck' was something even a grizzled Fleet Admiral would've respected or envied.
In this case… I just felt it, somehow. Her presence coming closer until she was within talking distance. Maybe a combination of all factors. Or, heck, maybe I'm just imagining things.
Yet I hesitated to turn around and face her, even though every fibre of my being screamed at me to just do it and get it over with. It was a mercy that the officer's mess hall was empty as this point in my shift. I stood at the cooking station and rubbed my forehead - incidentally the same spot and gesture Kaidan would do. But he was busy helping out the STG medics.
I was too worn out to be able to deal politely with onlookers - squadmates or not.
"Commander." I replied curtly, trying to keep as much emotion out of my voice as possible. "What can I do for you?"
The look in her eyes was… concerning, and impossible to decipher. I didn't even try.
"Are you feeling better, Raven?"
A rather neutral tone. But it felt like a genuine question.
"I.. Yes, Ma'am." I paused, didn't really want to continue, but somehow knew I had to. If only to keep things from going far too awkward. "I spoke with Liara and Tali. Even Captain Kirrahe. That helped."
"Glad to hear."
She paused for a moment, either unsure on how to continue, or trying to weigh her next words carefully.
I suddenly felt the urge to just ask.
"Ma'am, I have to know if you… still want me on your squad, or not." I gulped and searched for words. The search came up empty. I had to speak my mind. "With all that's been said during debrief, and all the stupid things I did, maybe it would be for the best if…"
I wanted to say more, but felt my throat constricting. Now that I had said it out aloud instead of brooding over it for countless hours, with only my own thoughts as my company - it was clear to me that I didn't want to go.
This was my mission as well. I had made it so - and I wanted to see it to the end. I felt surer of it than ever.
Shepard's gaze bore holes into my skull. Her lips a thin, white line. Then she sighed.
"You are a difficult case, Jess Raven."
No point denying that.
"As much as we all like to pretend otherwise, you are not a career soldier, and never will be. I don't think so. You're at the same time too young to be experienced and hardened, and too old to be malleable green, as we say."
I didn't dare to interrupt her monologue. Unsure whether she was speaking to me or to herself, I could only hang onto every word. What she said made my stomach sink, but at the same time, her tone was wistful… strangely, I did not sense any danger or negativity. An observation, not a judgement.
"I will be honest with you. I am at the same time glad, and regretful to have you aboard. With what we were able to give you, under these circumstances… I wish that you would have received a proper, full training instead of being conscripted directly to the frontlines."
"I'm not a conscript, Commander. Not really. I volunteered to help. How much good that did…"
I trailed off.
Shepard placed a hand on my shoulder before I even noticed. As I did, I felt my muscles stiffen.
"I will say this once, and only once, Raven." She said, lowly. "You did good. Not flawlessly, but nobody is without faults. You did what you could with what you were given. Any other officer might not have taken the risk of bringing an unknown to their operation. Anyone else would've sent you to a proper bootcamp and given you the chance to get prepared. However, I didn't."
She bit her lip. The green eyes darkened.
"Instead, I got you all to join the mission. I did it because I had no other alternatives. We needed to strike as quickly as possible, so I took everyone capable that I could find and struck Saren."
Her voice got harsher as she was speaking - but it wasn't directed against me.
"A quarian pilgrim, still half a child. The daughter of his top lieutenant. A krogan mercenary on the Shadow Broker's payroll. An overly eager policeman who didn't give a rats' arse about about the regs, and you. An alleged former criminal without any major fighting experience."
She squeezed my shoulder tighter.
"I gambled with all of you. But you werethecallwiththe most risk. Someone barely grown up, without a background to speak of and without any experience under fire. But again, I had no other choice. I took the help you offered, but was almost certain you wouldn't be up to the task."
Shepard smiled thinly.
"I was prepared to drop you quickly. Do you remember our deployment on Sharilja, the slaver base with that Dantius woman in charge? After you almost got yourself killed on the ONTARIO -"
And blew up everyone with a carelessly tossed Molotov, I filled in silently.
"- I was sceptical. Sharilja was a test. Should you have failed, I would've ordered you to retreat, finished the job, and dropped you off on the Citadel ASAP to go through Basics as a recruit should."
I gulped. My palms were sweaty as I clenched my hands. That's how close I had been?
"And guess what happened?" Her tone suddenly changed to convey irony. "You dropped your rifle when it overheated and almost got your head blown off by that one sniper. And yet, both mistakes happened for a good reason - you got to your sidearm quickly and managed to survive a headshot by deflecting it with your helmet. You even managed to get Wrex to cooperate with you. So, instead of putting you into reserve as I should have done, I took you with me to Therum."
She took a step closer.
You then proceeded to put Liara in danger against my orders -" I suppressed a grimace at that memory, " - but did that to save Ash, and had a very good explanation when I asked you. 'They were under orders to take her alive. They wouldn't shoot her.' I still wasn't convinced of you back then, but…"
With that, she dropped the irony, and spoke in kind of a reassuring voice. Still with an edge to it.
"Then, you worked harder than all of the others to prove me wrong. Don't think I didn't notice that you fired twice as many rounds down the training range as everyone else. Or how much time you spent trying to get all what our Doc tried to teach you into your head. Or that you spent almost all of your time off-duty working on your equipment or on the fitness equipment, all to try and catch up. You did what I asked of you, and more. There's a reason I promoted you."
The change in posture suggested a readiness to fight, and take a hit.
"What you messed up, you didn't mess up because you were stupid - but because I forced you to adapt faster than anyone else."
She - almost angrily - pointed her thumb at herself. "I am your commanding officer. I am supposed to make the right calls and use you as well as I can. The blame is on me, and me alone. You're an asset to the team. You proved that on Virmire, in the thickest of all the fighting. You. Did. Good. Period."
My face heated up. Conflicting feelings coursed all over my body. Again, my tongue was faster than my brain, now that the spell was lifted.
"That's - thank you, Commander, but - I made the suggestion that started this whole mess in the first -"
"Stop it."
I shut up immediately. Only rarely in my life, I felt more helpless.
"I reviewed your suggestion, and I accepted it. I made the call. Stop it, Raven."
That was the point at which I broke. My knees simply gave in, and I had to shakily sit down.
I don't know if I cried, but if I did, those were tears of relief.
"... Thank you, Shep." I croaked.
Shepard sat with me patiently, for what may just have been ten or fifteen minutes until I had calmed down.
To say that all was well now would be lying. Yes, hearing those words alleviated some of my fears. Simply to feel acknowledged was good, but Shepard had done that before. It never quite got through to me, since all the time, I felt like it had been empty, that I could have done better.
Yet still… I had not really processed Virmire. I had not griefed, as I should. As was healthy. I was confused on so many levels of thinking, unsure of what to do next, unsure of how to move on, unsure about my place in the grand scheme of things, unsure of what consequences my actions would hold.
"I… if we manage to stop Saren, Shepard… Then I will try to… process everything. Until then - if you still want me in your squad - I will try my best to keep it together and help you finish the job. Then, I will have time to… to think. I hope. "
I was simply tired of thinking, of pointless musings. I couldn't go on any further. All attempts at solving the mess in my head were bound to fail now, with everything being so fresh and raw, and me being I needed time - time the galaxy was not going to give me now.
At least, I was now able to acknowledge it to myself. As they say… recognizing the enemy is the first step to defeating them.
As if she could read my mind, Shepard spoke up again. She sat down next to me, in a respectable distance, but in comfortable proximity.
In this moment, I realized that she had stopped towering over me, in a literal sense of a word. It's difficult to describe, but… As best as I can describe it: She stopped being the Hero, the Main Protagonist. No longer some force I could not comprehend, only try to influence - to live up to her standards.
A human being, like myself. Or rather - a person, a real life person, not the avatar of the choices we all, as players, used to make. But one woman of flesh and blood. In some sense, equal to me and my fellow squadmates.
Relatable.
I could go on for hours, but I will stop myself now, as I think that my point is well made.
"When Saren is done, Raven. When."
She rose, hesitated, but then offered me a hand.
Again, maybe I was imagining things and/or viewing things the way I wanted to… but it didn't feel like she did that out of pity, or with some sort of forced courtesy. Rather, as we would pick each other up on the battlefield.
Make out of that, what you will.
When I finally stood again, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, my eyes didn't hurt as I locked them with Shepard. And neither did they feel like there was a fever inside them.
Shepards' lips formed a thin smile.
"We're on the Citadel in six hours We're going to stay for twelve hours, just to make sure the ship holds together, we can restock our supplies and… take care of the wounded." She spoke quickly, back to her role as Commanding Officer. "After that, and after the Council has sorted out our next steps, we will - finish the job."
Her eyes glimmered dangerously. I have to admit that I envied her seemingly unending fire.
"Once Saren's dealt with… You will get all the time you need, soldier." The way she emphasized that last word made me proud and worried at the same time. "And if you're willing to keep going, you'll be properly trained up to Alliance standards. And then, if you're up to it - I don't doubt that you are -"
Shepard took one step closer. "Then, I want you on this ship, in my team, when we figure out what we need to do to kick the Reapers into their oversized arses. Have I made myself clear?"
"Clear as day - Commander."
I was surprised at the sudden strength in my voice. I was amazed at how tall I could still stand.
She looked me over once more. The smile ghosting on her lips could've been pride.
"When we're done with the Council and back on our way... We'll continue this conversation. Sadly, I don't have time right now..." She shook her head. "There is still much to talk about, but I felt I should've said this weeks ago. You made no mistake."
Shepard merely nodded, turned and made to leave the deck. In her mind, everything was said - for the moment.
"Two more questions, Commander."
She stopped, turned around and gazed at me, inquisitively.
I don't know what motivated me to ask out aloud what I thought - but the can had been opened, and funnily, I actually desired answers for once.
"You will need everyone you can get to stop Saren. Every soldier, every gun. Even if I am not at full strength - I want you to take me with you to Ilos."
What surprised me most was not how Shepard's pep talk had lifted my spirits - but instead, how strong my voice sounded. To make a demand in Shepard's face… I would not have dared.
Shepards eyes narrowed, only briefly - but when she spoke, her voice sounded smooth, friendly even.
"Are you sure what you are asking for, Raven?"
"I think so." I made a gesture that was supposed to convey a calm state of mind. "I've been listening to the recording you made from your conversation with SOVEREIGN. If it hadn't been clear enough - we can't allow Saren to succeed. We must not. Which equally means that you should bring everyone you have when we confront him."
"I know what you're saying." Shepard nodded gravely, but kept her eyes on me. "But when we move to Ilos, we hopefully will have a whole fleet backing us up. And I won't have to make that call."
I crossed my arms and made a grimace. Right. She still thinks the Council will actually do something. It sounded cold and cynic in my mind, even by my standards. May as well.
"Permission to speak freely?"
She smiled. "As if a 'no' would stop you." When she noticed that I wasn't grinning, the smiling stopped. "What's on your mind?"
"I hope you're right, that they have finally woken up. If all the evidence we've collected isn't enough to convince them, I don't think anything will until hundreds of ships like SOVEREIGN show up right on their doorstep. At which point it's too late."
I rightened myself up again, and a bitter smile played on my lips.
"That being said, it'll probably be down to us to confront Saren himself anyway - him personally, I mean. Should that - or rather, when that happens and there's no good reason for me to stay behind - please consider bringing me with you."
"Do you think that's a good idea? To get back into the midst of it - after what just happened?"
Shepard knew me well enough and had enough control over her voice to make it sound like a genuine, professional question, but with a hint of empathy - instead of trying to belittle me or be… I don't know, you could call it overprotective. Just what I responded well to.
I made a show of cracking my knuckles.
"I have spoken with our Doc. At length. And she made a compelling point. The sooner I return to fighting, the easier the transition back in will be - psychologically speaking. In other words… I either don't back down and keep going when the chance arrives - or I will start second-guessing myself even more. Maybe to the point at which I am too scared to ever return to combat. That's not an option for me - not for as long as the Reapers still exist."
I think I may have seen Shepard becoming a little uneasy at the way I spoke. Understandably. Listening to someone coldly rationalizing a personal, emotional crisis - of their own person - wasn't comfortable to listen to.
For me, it was a mechanism of coping. Well trained, a lot of times. Most of the time, not exactly healthy due to depressions's tendencies to fuck up logic into something much darker. This time though, guided by Karin Chakwas. Which meant that it wasn't another weapon in an arsenal of methods to harm oneself, but a powerful tool instead.
I didn't know how to express it at that time, and I am not sure if Shepard would have understood. That being said, it was a pointless consideration. Frankly, I didn't want to say a thing about how I felt personally, the exhaustment, the pressure to perform, to make the right choices at the right time, knowing that I had neither time nor opportunities to learn.
By which I mean that I couldn't allow myself mistakes. How can one hope to improve or learn if they aren't allowed to make mistakes?
Opening that can of worms would've made my attempt at... outlasting this crisis to the point at which I had opportunity to think doomed to failure. I needed to get rid of the confusion, conflicting emotions and exhaustion - but I needed to hold on until there was time.
I had - solely thanks to the efforts of my teammates in simply being there and not judging me, among other, more personal things - but anyway, I managed to pull myself together enough to remain coherent and… somewhat focused on my goal. It helped that to stop Saren was the goal of everyone aboard.
And Shepard's speech? Part of me wants to make this even longer by telling you all about those feelings in depth; that would however mean to talk in circles even more than I'm doing already. Let's just say that there's indeed no pep talk like a military pep talk.
It would however only help to push back the problem temporarily. As soon as I was back on the clock, the cycle would continue.
How much longer I would be able to keep my psyche together? I didn't know.
We were indeed racing against time. Myself, doubly so. Even back then, I saw that in baffling clarity. A small part of my mind that seemingly wasn't connected to the rest, viewing clearly what the rest didn't know.
The thought that if we failed to stop the rogue SPECTRE my personal problems wouldn't matter anyway was only bitter consolation.
"I will consider it when the time is right, Raven. At the moment, you're still injured and would be no good when things heat up. Once we're close to the Mu Relay, I'll make up my mind."
I nodded, as much as I didn't like it. Of course Shepard was right - not just that, she was also still my commanding officer and would make the call.
That being said, the way I felt at the moment, it would need the brig and iron chains to stop me from getting even with Saren. Indoctrinated or not - he and the one that pulled his strings had made it somewhat personal, and as little of a threat I was in their eyes, I had every intention of hurting them as much as possible.
Shepard must have read my mind. I cannot find another explanation to why she would've given me that look, then continued with a softer voice. "... you wanted to ask me another question."
"Yeah…" I inhaled, exhaled. This was difficult to ask, and I I wouldn't have done so if my state of mind would've been clearer. "Shepard… why are you still trusting me?"
Everything inside me screamed to not bring up that subject. I had learned to ignore the voices.
"I am tired of hiding. You know that I… haven't told you the whole truth. Why are you still trusting me?"
For a moment, all I felt was a heavy silence.
The clarity and sincerity of her smile made my heart jump.
"We'll talk about it later. But I know that you're one of the good guys, Raven. I just know it."
She turned around and left a very confused me behind. But just before she entered the elevator, she turned around once more.
"In fact…"
A wistful smile played on her lips and only intensified the more she thought.
"Private First Class Jess Raven, in light of your exceptional service to the NORMANDY, the Alliance and Citadel Space as a whole, as well as prevailing under the most trying circumstances, I hereby promote you to the rank of Corporal. This promotion will come in effect as soon as Saren's neutralized."
I stood there, mouth agape.
She smiled. "Maybe it's mad of me to do this. But, eh, there's merit to madness. Just ask Joker. I'll talk to you soon, Raven."
And with that, she left.
We were three days from the Citadel.
The sands of time kept on trickling.
I was in the C/E deck when we docked at the Citadel. And I had a problem.
A 'moral dilemma' would be a better wording. My gaze kept on shifting between Captain Kirrahe - and a certain spot hidden underneath the walkway.
As long as the Salarians were close, Mako repairs had been at a minimum - and Kirrahe was far too smart not to notice me smuggling out or destroying certain… evidence.
But that wasn't what was really important right now.
There was another data disc that burned a hole in my pocket. It was becoming a bit of a habit.
The ramp lowered to reveal Dock 422, the NORMANDY's Council-assigned parking spot.
I had been told to assist the STG survivors in unloading their gear and injured, but as it turned out, they didn't really need me. Or simply didn't want a spanner in their works. Worked for me. I wasn't exactly trained to handle logistics, the Alliance had specialists for that. I think the only reason was to keep my busy. The more you work, the less you brood.
That being said, I was torn. Half of me wanted to be among the people bringing Danners, Ash and the others to Alliance HQ's medical facilities – the other half was secretly glad not having to be close.
... Speaking of logistics, it was a bit unusual that no Alliance personnel awaited us to offload and bring in new supplies. Instead, a dozen black-clad soldiers, their masks opaque, but their armor clearly salarian.
My muscles tensed unconsciously as I was unarmed and only in ship's fatigues, but Kirrahe made a calming gesture and nodded at one of them in the way of greeting. Working as a team, both groups cleared out the NORMANDY within ten minutes, not leaving the slightest trace that there ever had been guests aboard. I had half a mind to ask Kirrahe where he would bring the injured for treatment, but then decided that this question was better off not answered. The same went for the absence of Alliance personnel - obviously, someone had arranged something. The Alliance casualties were evacuated from the docking tube – conveniently, the ship itself blocked the line of sight.
I was unsure as to how I would be able to do this - then I saw Kirrahe's guns on the workbench. I had spent three minutes bowed over and inspecting them when Kirrahe arrived. He probably saw that I was only looking and therefore, had no reason to be suspicious.
"We are finished, Private." He said and reached out for them.
"Ya have a second. Sir?" I whispered under my breath, not looking at him. He stopped.
I placed the disc I had twisted between my fingers for the last half an hour next to his weapon mods.
"All the info we discussed during Shepard's debrief. What Saren's been doing. Information about the Reapers. Some info from our prior missions. The audiolog of Shepard's chat with Saren's ship. Might be useful to you. Take it. Quick."
I didn't have to tell him twice, and he was a very good actor. He swooped up all of his mods at once and stowed them into a pocket of his suit. Only then did I turn around to find no emotion in his eyes.
"You've just committed treason against the Alliance, Private."
His voice betrayed neither approval nor disapproval.
I shook my head. "To commit treason, you first have to be loyal. And I was never sworn to the Alliance anyway. Read my file - unless you have done that already."
He took a moment to stare at me, still with the same unmoving expression on his face.
"Why are you betraying your Commander, then?"
"Am I?" I crossed my arms, mimicking his non-expression. It wasn't difficult for me to make my case. All that Kirrahe said I had already talked through myself, in long, painful hours.
I should probably not mention this, but I still wasn't convinced that giving Kirrahe all that information was a good idea. I did it anyway. Snap-decisions.
"To stop the Reapers, we will need to work together." An uneasy feeling crept through my stomach. Talking about my reasons to Kirrahe was just as much a way for me to reaffirm my reasons to myself. "And I do not think that the Council will make the smart move, as opposed to the bald move we're going to need. "
I made a non-committing gesture. "The Council's been informed of all the stuff that is in that package, so it's not like I'm telling secrets. But I'm not sure it will… well, trickle down to where it matters."
"Shepard is a SPECTRE. The Council will not ignore her opinion or her information."
"Are you sure that they actually won't, Captain?"
I met his gaze levelly. The grin that played on my lips was askew and not at all funny. My voice heated up as I spoke.
"You're a leader among your people and have enough experience under your belt. Look me in the eye and tell me that they actually will take risks or even consider to do something unconventional. They won't believe that something goes beyond their own understanding, until it becomes a problem they can no longer ignore. If you want proof, just look at how they kept defending Saren's SPECTRE status. Without even checking if something was amiss, despite our fucking ambassador forwarding an official message from Alliance leadership. Oh, and one of our most important worlds in the Verge being set ablaze. And another SPECTRE dead. Had they just stopped for a second to make sure, it would've saved at least half a day and maybe a whole lot of people."
Not sure what he hoped to find in dissecting me with his eyes, but it was hellishly uncomfortable. He didn't comment. That didn't help.
"Last question.", he said, picking up his guns in a markedly casual fashion. "Why do you trust me - who's been under orders from the Council as well - to make a different choice?"
"Sir, the only things I trust the Council with are to act too little and too late at the same time. They will not take the initiative until it's too very job is to maintain the status quo. The more people are aware of this data, the more will potentially be worried. The more people can get stuff done before we're all dead."
I sighed. "I'm not asking you to do something against your orders, Sir. All I ask of you is that you look at this and make a smart choice. Excuse me if I am so bold, but I have a good feeling about you, Sir."
I leaned heavily on the table, absent-mindedly looking at Ashley's personal tools that nobody had bothered to put into storage.
"Others talk about getting a job done. People like you and Shepard actually get it done. The sooner you know all the data, the better for us all. I will respect your judgement, whatever it may be."
Kirrahe didn't reply for a good few seconds. Which, given that he was a Salarian, was remarkable and worrisome.
"Good." His face split into a smile. Or grin? "I will look this over in private, then I will decide what to do with it. "
"That is all I ask." I replied.
He looked me over once more. Inquisitive. "You are truly unique, Private. For better, or for worse."
"You were there, on Virmire, Captain. You know what danger we're in."
"Yes. And that, together with the way you handled yourself is the only reason why I am not going to report you to Shepard."
An entire bloody iceberg crept down my spine.
"I have to go." He looked back at where the other STGs were wrapping up their work. Suddenly, his hand was on my shoulder.
"You've got some promise, young man. We will meet again, I'm sure of it." One last nod, one last look to the table, making sure he had not forgotten anything, and he was gone.
I looked on as Kirrahe followed his men out. Had my decision been good, or was I merely delusional? Did I hand him anything he didn't know already? Why was he so sure we would meet again? I mean, chances were we would, on Sur'Kesh, in three years, under most dramatic circumstances - but….
Only time would tell me now. But, at the very least, it was a tiny bit of a relief to have kept on pushing.
Actually, scratch the 'tiny bit'. Having finally made a choice of my own, instead of being a slave to the events?
You bet that felt good. Although it removed only one stone from an entire wall of problems weighing on my mind. And added a new one, mind you.
"Hello, 'Raven'." Crow greeted me with a weary smile.
It dropped immediately as he saw me in closer detail. Only weariness and carefully controlled facial expressions remained.
"I don't have much time." I said in the way of a greeting, and in stark contrast to the truth.
I sat down and looked around quickly, as if I was afraid of being seen by the wrong people. "Let's get this over with."
Without giving him a chance to ask for details, I rushed into retelling the story. It was not a happy affair, as you can no doubt understand.
Each beat of The Flux' club music sounded more hollow to me than usual. Each of the dancing moves of the other patrons appeared like a caricature. Each laughter seemed shrill, masking other, more hidden motives.
In other words: I was in no mood to be understanding or casual. I confronted Crow with the facts. Short, without much detail. More of an after-action report to someone unfamiliar than really telling the full story as I had done before.
And for the first time, I left out parts. I didn't tell him about the confrontation between Shepard and me or the meeting after. Neither did I tell him about Liara or Tali, or just how bad I had felt after the mission. Crucially, I left out the part where I fed Kirrahe with our intel.
I was doubting myself enough. I didn't want him to do the same. This stuff was personal. Or so I told myself. The rush that Shepard's motivating words had caused had long since faded.
I was only too happy to get it done, leaned back and lit up a cigarette. I had to flick the old Bic lighter four times to get enough of a flame. The Zippo I usually carried around had not survived Virmire's water and replacing it wasn't exactly high up on my priority list. "Your turn."
He didn't say anything for a few minutes. He held his head low and his hands clasped, but looked at me from under heavy lids. I grew impatient, but he spoke up before I could snarl.
"Are you okay?"
First instinct was to say 'yes, I'm okay.' Then I realized that lying wouldn't work. But I didn't want to talk about it, so I kept my answer brief.
"I'm not; but that doesn't matter." I shook my head for effect. "I'm okay enough to get this done. After that - well, we'll see."
The faked calm didn't fool him. Obviously. Yet he didn't comment on it. Instead grinding his teeth.
He should have called me out for something. Maybe I was expecting something like that unconsciously.
Instead, he acted as I had expected. Secretly hoped for, and dreaded at the same time.
Crow chose not to delve deeper into Virmire. If I read him right, then to his mind, we would have time to talk about that later.
"Last mission." he stated flatly. "What's the plan?"
I pushed a keycard across the table. "The storage rental, around half a kilometer from Choras' Den? Next to the small temple dedicated to Athame?"
He nodded in confirmation.
"Locker two-two-eight-zero, in the third building, second floor. Two-two-eight-zero."
He repeated the number and location.
"I was able to get you a Tier-IX-medium armor. Might get a bit snug, but it will fit. Additionally, an Avenger IX rifle and a new pistol. That's all I was able to smuggle out. You have all the tools for maintenance?"
"Yes. Drussus was most helpful in that regard. Do I want to know where you got that from?"
"Stole it from Postle." At his gaze, I shrugged. "He got injured on Virmire, is still recovering and the AA hits shook up his inventory. Armor parts and guns were scattered all over the C/E deck. He won't know it's missing until we're on Ilos. Consider it a fair compensation for hours of your life wasted on getting him all those licenses in-game."
He chuckled dryly. "You're sure ya didn't get caught?"
I shook my head. "I concealed the pistol and packed armor and rifle in the wrong boxes. Even if someone saw me, they'll think I brought some damaged Mako components to Alliance HQ. Again - nobody will notice a thing until Saren hits the Citadel. And then it won't matter anyway."
"Good."
"No heroic bullshit." I said cooly. "Take it from me. It won't work."
"We'll see." He kept his voice even and didn't look me in the eyes. I ground my teeth.
"I'll drop you a message just before we reach Ilos - if I can. Same code as always. If it gets too hot - retreat. The wards should be somewhat safer than the Presidium. I mean, you're not allowed there anyway, but you get my point."
Crow nodded and looked back up at me. He looked like he wanted to say something, but my omnitool rang.
We exchanged a gaze, then I opened the mail.
FROM: Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, SAMC
TITLE: Meeting in 2 h
MESSAGE:
Raven,
Our meeting with the Council didn't go to plan. I'll fill you in later. Quoting Garrus: Fuck Red Tape.
We're meeting in 120 minutes in The Flux. Finish whatever you're doing and get there ASAP. We might have to improvise.
If you have some shopping to do, do it quickly. Maybe we won't have time later.
SLT Alenko
"They just met the Council." I informed Crow. "Looks like it went exactly as usual." And even Kaidan seems to have lost his cool. Good I wasn't there.
"Okay. You'll meet Anderson, then?"
"Officially, I don't know. Unofficially? We're meeting here, so I guess that's a yes." I ground my teeth again. My stomach did a somersault. It's funny how Anderson made me more worried than Ilos itself.
"How much time do we have?"
"Not much. It looks like they're going to move as quickly as possible." I lied. I just wanted this to be over as soon as possible.
"And they're damn right in doing that." Crow emptied his glass and rose. "Well… I better get out of your way, then." He grinned loosely. "As much as I want to meet the misfits, can't risk to have them ask questions now, can we?"
I faked a grin. The image of Shepard's face briefly ghosted before my inner eyes.
"Take care, man. Stay alive. It's only one more step to go."
"Same back at you. We'll talk about everything else later."
No doubt we will. And I don't think I want to.
"See you on the other side."
Crow merely nodded. He gave me a long gaze, waved, and strolled out the Flux.
I stared after him, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in my own skin and mind. Not sick. Just… uncomfortable.
Twenty hours later
As the man - and he looked like a man now, no longer just some kid who had gotten himself in far over his head - approached him, Jeff relaxed and took another sip.
He would've probably been fine either way, he concluded. Old trick to hide the booze in something harmless – like fruit juice.
And it wasn't like anyone would return to Alliance space to get him in a brig. And if they did, they'd do it as heroes, so who would care about him making the long flight a tad bit more interesting?
"Hi Joker." Raven spoke up. He sounded tired. "Mind if I take a seat?"
"You know the rules - ya touch anything, I'll break my arm punching you, then our Kick-Ass Commander will break yours as payback."
"Heh. Gotcha."
Joker took pride in his ability to read people. Came in handy when literally any drunk misunderstanding could break a bone or three. It was either that, or staying away from any bars anywhere forever.
The choice had been easy.
Reading Raven was easy. Laughably easy. Posture with slumped shoulders, eyes so dark that it almost appeared as if someone had punched him.
He'd looked worse before. Like when they had brought him in as half a corpse. So, it was something.
"Whaddya want, Raven?"
He shrugged a bit helplessly. "Been a while since I was here. And now, we're so close to the end. One way – or the other. Wanted to thank you for your flying back on Virmire. Without your skills, we'd all be dead now."
"It's alright. Flying is… what I do."
Joker raised his glass. "Damn shame about our guys, though." He said, sadly. "But they did what they could. You all did. They'll be watchin' us now. Especially Mills, that bastard. And he'd tell you: 'Don't ya worry, boy, livin' forever was borin' anyway.'
Raven smiled. It was a bit distant. "Sounds like what he would say, yes."
Joker fixed his attention back to the monitors, corrected a numbers that had dared to change, and looked back at the younger man. He seemed lost in thought.
"Y'know, Raven," he finally said and immediately took another sip. Why was being kind and considerate so damn difficult, and how by all leaking bulkheads did Shepard make it seem so easy?
"I really think you should let it rest. Let go, I mean. I've seen a few marines in my days bite it. Jenkins as well. Good man." Joker shrugged and grinned. "You remind me of him, a bit. And I can tell you, the one thing he'd say if he were here is that he would be pissed to miss out all the fun stuff."
His tongue felt heavier than usual. Maybe the alcohol had been cheaper than he thought. "What I'm saying is: Shit's happening, and we all knew the risks when we signed up. Ya don't need to dwell on it too much. Leave that to the Commander. Or, me. You still can't fly, 'Raven'. I'm sad."
He turned in his chair and gave him a long gaze.
What Raven saw was someone equally as tired, worn out and so in-cre-he-dibly in dire need of some vacation on some nice Asari ocean planet as he was.
Why Asari?
Every single beach a nudist beach.
Cultural differences were awesome.
And Asari, of course. Capital-A-Asari.
"Remember: I could've saved y'all the trouble, if I hadn't messed up as well."
He took a sip and grimaced. No amount of fruit juice could make warm vodka taste good. And no amount of vodka would wash away the outcome of Virmire.
But Shepard had been right. No point in wanting to change the past. You had your one chance, you scored or you missed, but unless you were dead, the galaxy kept on turning. Do it better the next time.
Joker had been around for a while. He knew it. But damn, it had been good to have it reaffirmed by Shepard. That woman knew how to talk.
There was a reason why he'd chosen to stay without any hesitation whatsoever.
Okay, part of it had to do with staying at the helm of the best ship in the galaxy, but still.
"I doubt anyone else could've made it past their AA at all, Joker. No stain on your rep."
"Right, you mean, aside from giving my employers the finger and stealing my ship while we're at it." He snorted. "Never thought I'd go rogue on the Alliance. I mean, that one time they tried replacing the coffee pads with some decaf bullshit was close, but..."
Raven actually chuckled. Maybe that would make it easier.
"Seriously though – don't beat yaself up over what happened. Not too much. 'S how things are sometimes."
Silence. Joker was starting to worry if he had sounded too callous. Wouldn't be the first time on this ship he had misjudged someone. Shepard, for instance.
Going full rant mode about not getting any of his accolades out of pity, but out of skill – only to figure out that she had no idea about any of it.
Yeah. That had been smart.
"You know..." Raven began, slowly. "I've heard so many people say something like that... I'm actually starting to believe it." He shook his head. "One way, or the other, we got stuff to do first."
"Yup. For example, I should get Goldstein and Michaelis to trim out our drive core." Joker clicked his tongue. "Not wearing insignia doesn't mean everyone gets to do whatever they want."
Raven stared at him.
"Sorry – sometimes I forget that you're actually an officer."
"Yeah, I do forget myself sometimes. Ehhhhmmm... What I meant is, you shut your mouth, or I'll have you drop on the floor and do forty... yeah, handstands."
Raven's face split into an involuntary grin. "You're Navy. I'm Marine Corps. You're not in my chain of command, so I'm safe."
"I can just ask Shepard. Her ace pilot or one idiot with a gun. Easy choice."
Raven rolled his eyes. "First off – we're both deserters anyway, so none of that stuff matters anymore."
"Ah, heck – knew something 'bout that would come back to bite me."
Raven ignored him and continued. "Second: If you're enjoying some drinks here, would you mind offering me one?"
"Wha-?"
It didn't happen often that Joker was speechless. Well, in fairness, he would've thought of a good reply in three seconds. Raven didn't give him a single one, so, no fair play.
"Please! If you want to keep it a secret, at least try and actually hide the bottle in your trashcan. The top still shows. And it's got a label on it."
Oh. Well, that didn't work as planned. It was his good fortune that with the constant chatter and beeping of a billion of systems, nobody outside the actual bridge could hear a thing. And unlike Joker - or Raven - their fellow deserters were actually working hard.
"If I'd… hand you a glass now, no questions asked… do you think you could have some spontaneous lapse of mind when you're talking to Shepard or Pressley?" Joker asked, trying his best to make it sound like an offer Raven couldn't refuse.
"Deal." Raven clearly wasn't in the mood for games. What a fucking bore. "Make it half 'n half."
Half a minute later, they toasted each other wordlessly and drank. Only one glass each. They were on a mission, after all.
Five minutes later, they were chatting among themselves, with Joker sharing the latest gossip about the ship's non-combat crew. He was amazed at how little Raven knew - after months aboard. In return, he learned a lot about their non-human crewmates.
Maybe more than he had wanted to hear.
An hour later, Raven's working shift started. He took both glasses with him, promised to make sure that neither CO nor XO would notice a thing, then left to get on with his business.
Joker turned around in his seat as much as his frail legs allowed. Then turned his attention back to his console.
Wasn't Raven's posture just a tiny bit straighter and his walk a tiny bit firmer?
He grinned to himself and ran all the checks to make sure they'd escape Citadel space without getting caught.
Then, he concluded, he had achieved everything he'd wanted to.
A/N: How did that happen?
How is it possible that the last time this story got updated, we were enjoying the last embers of summer heat (us on the northern hemisphere anyway) - and now, it's December, and Christmas is just around the corner?
Well, those of you that have followed this story for a while will know that I'm not exactly the fastest writer on this site - but…Damn, there is more than a thousand of you now. o.o
When did that happen?
Jokes aside, sincerely, Thank You All! for having enough interest in my endless ramblings about the what-would-be that you're willing to put up with my lazy backside. More than 350 reviews, more than 700 favourites, and more than 1000 people wanting spam in their mails and apps about this story! I know that that is far from normal.
When I was making my first drafts and sketches for ME:Raven - more than five years ago, right when I released the first version of my PAYDAY 2 short story 'BANKRAUB' (Still on this website, still in German… still far from good), I knew that I would be happy if I would interest anyone at all, given just how awful my English was back then. Right up until Chapter 5, I had to spend almost the same time that I used to write the story to go through everything once more and translate every word I didn't know!
'Raven' was supposed to both be a somewhat clumsy attempt at basically taking a few elements of some of my favourite stories, combining them with what I personally would have done instead, and then try and write that all in English, as good as I would be able to. An exercise to test myself as a writer and to improve my extremely limited vocabulary.
Sometimes it is actually difficult to believe the attention this story has received so far, and for all that, I say once more - thank you!
Now, that that has been said…
We (5CW & myself) had both a bit of a delay in actually getting this chapter released. At first, I had too much on my plate to write, then, later, he had too much on his plate to beta. So, we're both at fault for releasing that late. Originally, this one was supposed to be released on N7 Day… which is November 7th. Yeah. None of you should be surprised about that, though :D
That being said, when I actually had time to think about fanfictions - I had to read some myself. I mean, seriously? Updates for both "Mass Effect: Divergence" AND "Mass Effect: Convergence"? No offense, Lanilen - but that two-year-break puts even MYSELF to shame :D I'm glad you're back, though. Honestly - I am a fan. Of 'Convergence' more so than 'Divergence', but still, my point stands. (I'll still review! I'm sorry! .)
Aaaaannnyway, where was I? Ah, yes. That all being said - the extra months weren't wasted! Now, I know how good I am at keeping promises about release dates - but you will all be happy to hear that parts of 18.3, 19 and 20 - the final chapter of ME 1! - are all already existing. Even parts of the Epilogue do! We're talking about 10,000 words here! Also, there are half-finished versions of overhauls for chapter 4.2, 4.3 and 5 floating around somewhere on my harddrive. With any luck, I might just be able to release another chapter and a rework this year.
Great, and now I've jinxed it. Way to go, Raven.
Additionally, I spent a few evenings writing a few pages of ideas and scenes for different other fandoms. Maybe they, one day, will be posted here as full stories. Short stories, most likely - I have no plans for novels aside from 'ME:Raven', for obvious reasons - but some of that stuff I found intriguing enough to write, so I'll keep the ideas and see what happens. I have told you that I'd love to write a Borderlands story one day - that being said, I'd have to play through Borderlands 3 first. And that, with MY schedule, could take a while.
Anyway, that is enough of me rambling for one A/N section. Actually, for several.
Should I not manage to finish 18.3 prior to Christmas - Merry Christmas!
See y'all for the next one.
P.S.: Should there have been major errors in this story, just point them out please - I'll try and get them fixed ASAP. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to give it a lot of polish, as I usually do.
P.P.S: Last update, 09.12.19 - Added two paragraphs. One to clarify a point that had been raised in the reviews, another one that had gotten lost between documents.