*** Therum: Approach ***
With two trouser pockets full of Optimeal biscuits (he'd found that six was equivalent to a meal,) Shepard noticed Jenkins sitting at one of the nearby tables. He ambled over and stopped across the table from the younger man, who was mostly watching a vidmail from his family, and occasionally eating from the tray of food in front of him.
"Hey, Jenkins. Got a few minutes?"
Richard smiled, pausing the playback. "Sure." He pointed at the tray. "Have you tried Carlyle's iced risotto, sir? It's really good."
Shepard produced one of the biscuits from a pocket, regarding it with a hint of resignation. "Hardly ever have time for recreational eating. But I'll remember that." He pocketed the biscuit as he sat down. "Your family still okay?"
Richard smiled. "Yes, sir." He waved his fork at the holostand on the table between them. "Today's news is pretty good. They're getting things cleaned up. Dad and mom's house was fine, Suzie and Wilson could both see the big ship, but weren't close enough to be attacked. SAR found a dozen more survivors in the tower shelters yesterday."
"Think you could help more if you were there?"
"Sir?" Richard looked stunned.
"Do you think you could help more if you were there? I know Trident is sending in a new unit, but they haven't formed it up yet. I was thinking you might like it if I tried to get you in. You interested?"
Jenkins' face brightened with an open-mouthed smile. "You bet I am, sir. But wouldn't it look bad for me only being posted here for a month?"
"I can't imagine why. Considering what happened there, I think it'd be completely understandable. If you want, I'll put a special request in with the new CO. Besides, we already got the one survivor transferred to Normandy. Seems only fair we should give back."
"That would be really great, sir, but I don't know why I'd rate."
Shepard paused, looked away. "Well, you sort of asked to be sent home."
Richard's expression fell. "I what?"
Shepard held up a reassuring hand. "Don't worry. I'm your CO, and it's my call what you meant by that. You didn't seem like the type to bail, so I thought I'd…treat it as if it was the stress of the moment talking. The doctor at the Citadel clinic blurred it with some therapy. Clearly you've forgotten it. But you did say it twice, so I take it seriously. I thought there might be another way to get you home without opening that can of worms. I've already composed the RFT, but I gave reasons about how you're a native, you know more about the planet, I thought you would be able to do more good there, we had already absorbed Williams…and so on. And I wanted to talk with you first and find out if you'd be okay with a transfer to Sargon."
"Uh…well, sure…I'd love it. But I didn't want to do anything to put you out, sir."
"Not even a little. I know your family is important to you, and you'd be a lot happier there with them after that attack. Personally, I think it was a fluke. And now that Saren's on the run, I doubt he'll be going back to Eden Prime.
"However, I noticed you didn't have an adverse reaction to fighting the geth, and that's what we're expecting on this next drop. I can also leave you on Alenko's team, if you'd prefer…but I don't want to press my luck."
"Sir, if you're offering me the chance to stay in the Alliance and be close to my family, I'll take it. But if it'll make your life easier for me to stay, I'll do that."
Shepard nodded once. "Right, then. I appreciate your attitude, but I'll coontact the new CO, recommend he file an RFT for you. It might be a while before we get approval. Depending on how things go on Therum, it might be just a couple of days. But it might be a couple of weeks, too.
"In fact, I'll see if they can let you remote in and start getting things set up there. But don't get all figmo on me; skipper's going-away present to us was an M-35 APC, and I'm assigning you to Gomez until your transfer actually comes in. Get that thing all fired up and double-checked so we can use it for tomorrow's drop."
"Hey, that's great, sir. Thanks. I know Doyle's been super busy for days now with the new contractors, and the new ship, and the dextro switchover stuff. You need that M-35 to be Ground Combat ready, I'm your man."
"And this'll give you more experience in fabrication, which will probably come in handy during the reconstruction work on Eden Prime." Shepard nodded decisively. "Good. Sounds like we're all GO with this." He rose from the table. "If you have any other concerns, message me."
Richard was instantly on his feet, saluting. "Yes, sir. Will do, sir." He broke into a huge grin again. "And thanks a lot, sir. This is really great, and I appreciate all you did to…make it possible. And uh…about the 93(g), sir…"
Shepard returned the salute. "Don't give it another thought, Jenkins. I know you do your best."
# # #
Shepard was sitting at his desk installing a UI upgrade to his brain appliance when he heard a "foomp," and the overhead lights went out. He paused, listening. The engines were still whirring steadily along. His desk array was still running. Nobody was calling for help, and there wasn't the sound of something on fire.
His ARO explained, Frame 22 starboard bus error; systems power reroute in progress.
He looked toward the door in time to see the light of an omnitool torch playing across the wall outside. A voice asked, "Commander?"
"In here," he replied. "Is something seriously wrong?"
A heavy sigh. "I sure hope not, sir. Greico and I are working on that power bus, and I think there's something went shitward in the system, either in the MedBay, or in the SPC. Unbalanced load or a controller failure."
"It failed while you were servicing it, or you two just that fast on the job?"
"We're just that good, sir."
"That's the spirit." Shepard rose with a nod and an encouraging smile, illuminating his gauntlet as he did. "I assume nobody's hurt?"
The engineer appeared in the doorway, his omnitool casting an orange glow across his face and torso. "No, sir, but it looks like it took out power to most of the middeck." A blue-white flash threw a shadow into sharp relief on the bulkhead behind the engineer. "I just wanted to make sure you were unaffected until we get it all straightened out." Scraping and pounding sounds came from around the corner as the man pointed toward Shepard's desk. "Looks like your DCE is still good, sir?"
Shepard knew what the man was really saying, even if the engineer didn't know that he did. It was a way of keeping busybody senior personnel out of the way while the staff officers and ratings handled technical issues. He had used it himself in the past; finding that he was now on the receiving end made him smile privately.
"Looks okay to me," Shepard sat again and turned back to his desk, with a dozen glowing holographic tiles active. He realized it would probably take them a few minutes to fix whatever it was, and returned to his inspection of the upgrade review.
The "brain upgrade" had come from the device manufacturer, but Alliance techs had checked it over before releasing it to deployed users because there were perhaps a million soldiers using similar neurological enhancement. While still referred to as an "appliance," it was actually a coordinated swarm of nanobots providing redundancy in critical areas, allowing brain activity to continue even if neurons were damaged.
With his grandfather's help shortly after original installation, software modifications and development work had integrated swarm functions with his implant. A neurohacker group he'd been following had advised using six or even seven times as many as the original designer intended; being relatively young and rebellious at the time, he had put himself through eleven courses of the installation before he could stand it no more.
(The process had required using a backswing in a 0.5-1.1 gee field and remaining inverted while filling his sinuses with a nanobot-laden paste. He'd had to breathe through his mouth for about 30 minutes, but with a session of his favorite PVR game and a nose clip, he spent a weekend repeating the process for an hour at a time to make sure he got the most from the stuff. Technically, it was illegal for him to print up eleven doses while only paying for two, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from getting the swarm "installed correctly.")
The swarm being "cracked" in this way made the implant capable of simulating the acceleration he used in combat, allowing his brain to briefly "overclock." The result was a few seconds of controllable acceleration, which made the world seem to run slower. Being a teen, he invested a lot of time in studying and experimenting with what seemed another strange new power, and kept the results largely to himself.
Though it had always come at a price (splitting headaches at 30% acceleration when he first began experimenting with it,) the latest upgrade included a patch that looked like it would reduce or even eliminate the headache that 6x combat acceleration usually caused, and eliminate the "head full of water" sensation that almost always accompanied 4x. It also included a new library of heuristics that would allow him to delegate various anticipation and predictive tasks (such as seeing a representation of the path of a moving object to assist with avoiding or intercepting it.)
Shepard's ARO displayed a progress tree that grew as each of the nanobots was updated, and facilitated the faster upgrade of other nearby 'bots. It showed that almost 200 of the 'bots had failed the upgrade, and another 43 had failed completely beyond use. Though these numbers were in the "rounding error" range, their respective areas were temporarily reassigned, and replacement units were dispatched from nearby nodes.
It would take about an hour for them to be moved carefully into place, and probably a week longer that that for the failed units to be dismantled and rebuilt. After making his own modifications to the "appliance" – about areas of his brain to which the patch was or was not allowed access – it was reassuring to know exactly how the swarm was doing.
As the progress tree continued to grow, Shepard noticed that the engineer had not moved, nor did he seem to be doing anything. Notice the unusual, he remembered, because the unusual is almost always significant. It was one of the more memorable lessons of his N6 training.
Unconsciously, he checked his hip, feeling the weight of the new pistol on his thigh hardpoint. Out of his combat armor, it was his only firearm, but not his only weapon.
While waiting for the upgrade to complete, and without looking up from the desk, he gestured for his omnitool's "combat radar." The relatively limited sensor showed about 10-12 people in the main mess on his ARO, which was not out of the ordinary, but they were all moving around, which meant no one was actually eating.
He gestured for his combat suit's rear view before realizing he was not wearing it. Watching the motion in the mess revealed nothing about what they were doing. His suit mics were also unavailable.
Subtly touching his sidearm as he rose from the desk, Shepard approached and opened a drawer on the wall by his bed. The engineer was still standing by the door, looking at his omnitool when Kaidan, omnitool also aglow, leaned his head in and asked, "Hey, Commander. You got a few minutes?"
Shepard nodded. "Good timing." Touching the drawer closed, he turned and moved aft.
Kaidan murmured, "Thanks, Pakti. Go give Greico a hand, will you?"
"Yes, sir." The man moved away, taking his little bit of light with him.
Shepard led the way out of his quarters. "So what's going on?"
Kaidan sighed as they walked into the darkened Mess, using his omnitool torch to light the floor ahead of them. "I assume you knew that we were slated to join the Scout Fleet after shakedown, so we got orders to have all the medical equipment switched to levo-amino compatibility only."
Crap, Shepard thought. "I do remember that, but I thought the switchover wasn't complete. Also thought I'd seen dextro supplies on the manifest when we were at the Citadel."
"You did, but there are still some things we didn't get switched back. The replacements they gave us will help, but it's not all we need long-term if we'll be operating as a Spectre vessel for the Council." He shook his head. "Anyway, the problem is in the new mix of gear we have in the MedBay. I put the request in through Trident, but they'd have to build the stuff we need. The gear they took out at Arcturus was sent back to the Citadel."
"The Citadel…that we just left? Why didn't they put it back in while we were there?" Passing the portside ladder, with a large, open service panel and a pair of engineers working on its exposed innards. They stepped into the MedBay, its autodoor open.
"It hadn't arrived yet. It's just destined for." He glanced at his omnitool. "But the good news is that it should get there in…uh, probably the next couple of hours."
"Unbelievable." Shepard shook his head. "Never enough time to do it right, but always enough time to do it over?"
Kaidan shrugged. "SOP."
Shepard noticed the Doctor as she looked up from where she was working in the Convertible Clean Room. She seemed concerned. "Oh, Lieutenant, you went and got him? I'm sorry, Commander, I hadn't meant to disturb you. I think we have the situation under control here, but it would be nice if we could go back to the Citadel as soon as we finish our current mission. The dual-mode medical equipment was routed there, and I'm concerned about medical needs of the dextro crew…sorry, I mean contractors."
"Yes, Alenko was just telling me about it." Shepard noticed Kaidan had been tapped by one of the techs and called away. "It sounds like there's nothing they couldn't swap out in a couple of hours. It'll take us longer to get there than to do the actual work. Is that your understanding?"
"Yes. And if you're planning to take us back to the Citadel immediately after we finish at our next destination, there's a lot of catching up we won't have to do. It will save Silas and me over a week of technical work."
"All right. It'll take couple of days to get there, but it will also mean we'll be at the asari embassy, and won't have to babysit an archaeologist." Shepard operated his omnitool; the soft indigo glow provided some general light in the MedBay as he did. "And the Council may want to find out what this Matriarch Benezia's daughter knows, in which case the Citadel seems a safer place than a dig. I'm sure there are commercial flights to Thessia from there, too."
"That's true," Karin nodded, waving toward the two engineers. "Well, with the Lieutenant's tech team on the case, I suspect they'll have it all sorted quickly enough; it seems to have only affected lighting. I'm glad we had a chance to talk, Commander; if we can expect to have the original equipment back within a few days, that will change what we have to rebuild or get from the MFO. We'll keep holding things together here until we get back to the Citadel." She turned back toward the room, then looked over her shoulder again. "Is there anything else, Commander?"
Noticing that Kaidan had left the room, Shepard asked, "Doctor, how well do you know the Lieutenant?"
She shrugged casually. "Alenko? I've never worked with him before this, but he has an impressive service record; over a dozen special commendations." She tilted her head. "I thought you had known him for several years."
"I have, but I have only my own perspective."
The short-haired doctor nodded. "He tends to keep to himself. As CFS, I'd advise he interact more with others, though that could be because of the headaches. It's not always easy being an L2."
"I've never actually talked with him about the tech. What's that got to do with it?"
"Well, most biotics today get the L3 implants. Lieutenant Alenko was wired with the old L2 configuration, which was when they were still trying to figure biotics out. Sometimes there are complications."
"Such as…?"
"Severe mental disabilities, insanity, crippling physical pain…there's a whole list of horrific side effects. Kaidan's lucky, he just gets migraines."
Shepard shook his head. "If you can call that lucky. Migraines can be debilitating."
Doctor Chakwas held up a hand. "Not to worry, I've just started him on Acutrazane. It should significantly reduce the number and intensity of the attacks, and it leverages his L2 wiring to—" She cut herself off at the sound of the door opening.
Kaidan rounded the corner into the MedBay, and looked up from the circle of light his omnitool was creating on the floor ahead of him. "Commander, got a situation in the SPC."
Shepard took a step toward the door. "Looks urgent. Can we handle it now?"
"I expect so, sir. If you'll come with me?" Kaidan led the way quickly through the still-darkened Mess, keeping his omnitool torchlight focused on the floor as he walked; it was easier to avoid the equipment and dining tables. "It looks like the reverse chirality is causing more problems than expected. The sleep pod we tried to set aside for the two contractors who need it apparently didn't like the switchover, and took itself offline." They stepped up into the Sleep Pod Corridor, Shepard noticing there was no one else in it with them.
"Once it was offline, it looks like the controller tried to execute an auto-reset, and doing so took down the bus." Kaidan stopped in front of the pod at the top of the steps, his light aimed down the accessway. "Probably the dextro profile had an incompatible attribute." Light still aimed at the floor to their left, Kaidan reached into the open pod, lifting out what looked like a 25-centimeter circular tech board. "Here; can you hold this?"
The motion of Kaidan handing it to Shepard caused his omnitool torchlight to shine on the next pod; the reflection was briefly dazzling. Shepard had just enough time to notice that the thing was quite warm. "Feels like it really overheated."
"It's actually at just the right temperature," Kaidan said, "but it was quite a surprise." As he said "surprise," the overhead lights snapped back on, and Shepard realisded he was holding a small pizza.
Kaidan had reached into the pod with his left hand, grabbed a handful of the "wires," and lifted them as high as he could; Shepard realized they were party streamers only as the biotic threw them on his CO's head, scattering glitter into the air.
A chorus of voices cheered, "Surprise!"
The mess was almost full of crew. Holographic decorations and effects included a small fountain on each of the tables, a plaid-colored terrier doing back flips (a currently popular extranet meme,) and an ongoing shower of gold and silver sparkles that looked like slow-motion rain. The lights dimmed again, and spotlights and lasers wandered around the room, making it look like the dance floor of a club.
Recalling the similar party he had organized for his own Captain, Shepard smiled. Anderson wasn't picking the crew for himself, he was picking them for me, he realized.
Kaidan's hand was suddenly at his back. "Go on, try it." The dark-haired man pointed at the pizza. "I designed it for you myself. Pineapple and Canadian bacon with triple pineapple. I call it, 'Shepard's Pie.'" He grinned. "Get it?"
Shepard raised a brow as he made eye contact. "So you're saying I'm a pineapple?"
Before Kaidan could react, someone started singing, "For he's a jolly good fellow," and was quickly joined by the rest of the crew. Shepard did his best not to look embarrassed until he realized he was holding a potential distraction: He rolled the pizza Swedish-style and devoured it at a pace he hoped would let him finish before the song ended. As some of the crew noticed what he was doing, they tried to sing faster, and the song devolved quickly into a chaotic mush, spiced with laughter.
Club music started to play from an ad-hoc omnitool network; as more crew joined it, the volume was kept constant while the room seemed to fill more evenly with the sound.
More, larger pizzas, in a variety of types, were scattered across the tables; people began to pull them apart, grabbing cups for drinks as they did.
As Shepard thought about it, the pieces of this orchestration fell into place. Alenko taking him from his stateroom to the MedBay had been coordinated with the crew putting up decorations. Once they were set up, they had to get him to the end of the Sleep Pod corridor…still in darkness so he wouldn't see them lurking in the mess. Looks like I was a little too paranoid this time, he thought.
Wrex ambled into the mess from the lift, looking like he expected to be annoyed or ignored (or both.) Instead, he was handed a bucket of beer and three slices of pizza on a plate, and surrounded by younger crew members.
Kaidan made his way through the party to the krogan, who stood there sniffing the human food uncertainly. Turning away from his groupies, the krogan held the plate of pizza toward Kaidan. "Is this safe to eat?"
"It should be safe, but it might not be meaty enough for you."
"I heard you say the name of the food," Wrex gestured to the PET on his belt, "but my thing is telling me that a shepherd's pie is supposed to be something else. Are you sure this is what you think it is?"
Kaidan sighed. "It's a sort of joke. The Commander's name isn't spelled the same, but it sounds the same. And this," he pointed to the pizza on the plate, "is actually called a pizza pie, though more often, just a 'pizza.' But he likes pineapple, and so this is a way of identifying this kind of pizza pie as Shepard's pizza pie. So it's Shepard's pie, get it?"
Wrex thought for a few seconds, then shook his head. "On Tuchanka, if you have to explain a joke, it was stillborn. I know you say something similar."
"Yeah, well…" Kaidan shrugged. "I think I'd say it didn't survive translation."
The krogan nodded. "Keep trying. You'll get it." He pushed past, playfully bashing his right shoulder into the human's.
# # #
Shepard found he was thirsty after his pizza-eating stunt.
He ordered a couple of piña coladas and sipped one while scanning the partiers for Corporal Jenkins. He saw the Corporal was still near where Wrex had been fan-mobbed by the younger crew, looking at the aliens from a distance.
Walking over, he held the glass in front of Richard. "Here. I owe you this. For bravery under fire, but mostly getting clobbered by the geth and surviving. Thanks."
The younger man took the glass, looked at it uncertainly. "Uh…thank you, sir. I don't drink."
"You don't drink alcohol," Shepard clarified. "I know that. This is just pineapple and coconut juices. Tastes like a piña colada without the proof rating."
Richard took a sip. "Hm. That's okay stuff." He drank more generously.
"Don't drink it too fast or everyone will know it's a virgin," Shepard advised. He raised his glass. "Here's to the Cockadoodle Cross."
Richard smiled with a hint of embarrassment, raised his glass to Shepard's and clinked it. "The Cockadoodle Cross," he repeated.
Shepard continued, "You can't win it posthumously…and because it's always better to get your ass handed to you than your head."
"Yeah. Um…" Richard looked thoughtful. "Thanks again, sir." He fidgeted. "I'm sorry I got shot."
Shepard shook his head. "You should be; I've never been shot." He added a sardonic look, and then clinked his glass to Jenkins'. "Glad we got that straightened out. So be ready to pay it back to someone. If you haven't gotten a neurolearning for Combat First Aid, do it." He nodded once, looked over his shoulder. "Which reminds me; Gunny Williams is a Battlefield Angel. She can help you earn your SOCM…if you can match up some time before you ship out."
Richard looked across the mess at Ashley, who appeared to be flirting with Kaidan.
Shepard noticed a wistful look in the young Corporal's expression. He added, "Yeah…now the good news is that you can get something going because you're going to be in another unit. The bad news is that you'll have to maintain that relationship remotely." He turned to the left and started to step away, clapping Richard on the shoulder as he did. "But you'll never know if you don't ask. It's all up to you."
# # #
Tali'Zorah was standing in the tech bench near the Commander's quarters. Though it had been pressed into service as a drinks dispensary, it was still a place where she felt some degree of comfort. Nearly all of the instruments and tools had been secured for the party, but the effect was to surround her with technology. The dispensers were standard countertop fabricator kiosks, so mostly the crew tapped whatever they wanted; Tali had found a small white cloth and was having fun talking with them while pretending to be a bartender.
Garrus sidled up to the bench, leaning on it as if it were actually a bar. "So do they serve anything decent here?" It was a turian pick-up line so old that it had been reduced to a cliché. When the quarian turned to him, he was briefly unsure that she understood he was trying to be amusing.
Tali's "harem" of virtual intelligences had picked out the turian when he was still several meters distant, tracked his movements as he meandered his way over, analyzed his body language, and provided its recommendation of a drink before he had even leaned on his elbow.
Tali's hesitation was only her uncertainty about what drink to offer him in reply.
Her VI advised, The counter-idiom uses the drink chosen as a way of expressing anything from flaming, urgent interest to outright hostility.
The table of drinks and their meanings disappeared with a flinger flick; she chose to play the ingénue. "As the only other dextro here, I can tell you that all the drinks I have tested seem to taste of sucrose alcohol. They may be trying to kill us."
Garrus nodded. "Ah, but what a way to go." He waved toward the tables. "You know that they put out some dextro snacks, right? Fendus and bosri, and…uh, I forget what else. It's chilled, and they have some other sauce if you want it."
Tali nodded. "I'm okay. But thanks." She plopped the rag atop the "bar" and gave it a wipe. "So how'd you end up here?"
Garrus looked up intently. "I'm hunting Saren. He's either gone mad, or turned traitor. I have good intel and lots of combat experience. If I can, I'll put a round through his spiritless brain myself." His fringe contracted. "That would be a very good way to explain to C-Sec why I left."
Tali's VI noticed the nuances of the fringe motion, and tagged the turian's head: Indicates unconscious embarrassment, emotional conflict, it added.
Garrus continued, "How did you end up here?"
"I have lots of experience and knowledge about the geth, Saren's allies," the quarian stopped wiping the bartop and looked at the turian soberly. "I also had the evidence that got Saren kicked out of the Spectres."
Garrus flinched, startling Tali. "You did that?"
Tali took a step back and clutched the rag in both hands. "Um…well, yes. But he tried to kill me!"
Garrus raised both open claws to collar height. "I'm not blaming you; that's excellent! Well done!"
One of Tali's VIs informed her that the turian's gesture was one of reassurance. "Oh…then…thank you." She looked aside, almost embarrassed. "Uh…I didn't realize it was important at the time…at least not for that." A tiny 2D image appeared on Tali's omnitool gauntlet; she held it up for Garrus to see. "They took me right to the Council Chambers. After they saw it, the Council made him a Spectre."
"Now that's a good day," Garrus pounded the benchtop with a fist as he said it. "I wish I could have been there."
"Really?" Tali brightened. "Because I PVRed it. You want it?" She flicked her fingers quickly and held out a glowing holographic icon.
"I'd love it." Garrus tilted his head in surprise. "You been carrying that around, or are you just that fast?"
The quarian flicked her fingers again, cycling through other icons. "I'm just that fast," she said as the original PVR icon reappeared. "Comes from living in a smart suit. You learn its features, add other ones you want, get rid of things you don't. It'll help you if you let it." She proffered the icon again; Garrus accepted the token and the PVR link downloaded to his omnitool.
He nodded to her. "Thank you. This should be good."
"Would I be allowed to post it publicly? I was being pretty subtle about recording until the other Alliance soldiers started congratulating him."
Garrus pointed at Tali's omnitool. "Sure you can. You recorded it in an open session of the Council. Emergency or not, it's a public record. You might get a lot of hits from the Alliance with your looking-over-his-shoulder perspective." He dreiffed his fringe at her. "You have a unique view of an historic event. You might even consider contacting a news agency; they might have a bounty on something like that.'"
# # #
Wrex had found he enjoyed the limelight of attention he was getting from the younger crewmembers – a few of whom had not been offworld or actually met any non-humans – but eventually went in search of a drink. He approached the tech bench where the quarian and the turian were talking.
Pouring himself a glass of whatever was in the first dispenser, opened his mouth and threw the contents in. Smacking his lips and shrugging, he tried the second and third before grumbling, "Guess they're not serving drinks for grown-ups."
Garrus turned and pointed at the dispensers. "Don't just try the default; you can select from a variety of drinks; just spin through the selector. If you can't find what you're looking for, I'm sure they can whip up some battery acid if it'll make you feel better," he said.
Wrex looked where the turian had pointed. "Aw, you're just saying that."
Garrus shrugged. "Yeah, I am, actually."
Tali quickly tried to change the subject, "Mister Wrex? Uh…I can't eat it, of course, but did you like the…um...Shepard's Pie?"
The krogan turned his left eye toward the quarian. "You keep calling me 'mister' Wrex and I'll have to put you over my knee and paddle you. I'll be your friend, but you have to talk to me like I really am. I'm Wrex. Just plain old Wrex, okay?" He pointed across the room to where there were still some pizza slices. "As for that stuff, it was too limp. Didn't put up a fight at all. You might like it, but it seemed kind of puny to me."
As they stood there talking, Greg Adams walked over, carrying a small decorative bowl filled with a reddish paste. "Hey there. It sounds like you're talking about the food. Zhang said you had inhaled the pizza and called it flavorless." He raised the bowl. "So I whipped up some of my own personal mix: I call it "pepper spray." Most folks say it's too hot, but I think it's great. Zhang says he thinks your head will melt, but if you wanted something with a little sparkle, I thought I'd let you try it."
"Hm. Maybe." Wrex leaned down and sniffed at it. "Smells busy." Before anyone had a chance to react, he opened his mouth slightly, and a two-foot-long tongue shot out, adhered to the bowl, and yanked it back into his mouth.
The ceramic shattered and crunched loudly as the krogan chewed; Adams' mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Where did that come from?"
Garrus sounded amused, "You didn't know that krogan come equipped with party favors?"
Wrex continued to chomp noisily. "Not bad," he nodded approval. "It's got a nice flavor to it, but you should have brought a whole tray of them."
Adams was still gaping at his open hand in disbelief. "Most people don't eat the bowl."
Wrex turned an eye to the engineer. "Oh…I forgot. You humans use tools for everything, don't you? Even to eat." He continued to chew, seemed to be considering the flavor again. "Hm, that's real ceramic. Well, no harm done, and it aids digestion."
Tali leaned toward Adams, but pointed at Wrex. "You might order up a few more of those. I think he likes them."
"Especially the bowls," Wrex agreed. "Make sure you order up the same bowl." He patted his belly, adjusted one side of it. "Rrgh. Yeah, another two or three of those, and I'll bet I can work up a real good crap."
# # #
The music softened as the evening continued; Shepard was glad to have some time to meet his crew. More congratulated him on being a Spectre than on assuming his first command, though as he'd had time to think about it, the Spectre appointment probably was a more newsworthy event.
He noticed a small cleanerbot emerge from its floor-level alcove and begin whirring its way around the Mess, picking up the last of the debris as he stepped into his quarters. His ARO informed him that the Mako had been fully inspected, commissioned, and was ready to start charging; LRSA was in Active Standby, and the Frame-level bus failure drill had been successfully passed.
He smirked. Of course it was a drill.
Considering they were landing tomorrow, he selected an ample six hours of sleep with a neurolearning refresh for ground combat operations, and realized he still had a couple of hours before he needed to start it. He walked to his desk; the displays lit as he approached.
A magenta-colored sparkle drifted from his head to his uniform. Realizing he probably still had more celebratory debris in his hair, he brushed his fingers across his scalp; more sparkles settled to the desk.
I really need a shower, he realized. But I haven't even checked myself out in the new armor.
On the other hand, Era T'Iar had seemed confident that the transition to his new armor would be seamless…
# # #
"The human Alliance officially made its records on you available to us several months ago, when you were first identified as a potential candidate," the asari Spectre manipulated the interface with a spin here, a flick there. With a confident smile, she looked over the console at the wholly vulnerable Shepard. "Though you are our first human, you're not the first military professional we've had to transition into the Spectres," she said. "I've actually been looking forward to talking with you."
Shepard qualified her statement, "Assuming I wasn't a raving fan of Updater."
The asari's expression was one of indulgence. "True. While it would have been hard to know the value of such a conversation beforehand, it would be remarkable if someone of such temperament would make a good Spectre Agent."
"Hm. I suppose not," Shepard said. "Though I'm also not sure why you'd want to talk with me. I was originally slated to train with a turian named Nihlus…"
The asari smiled quietly to herself. "Actually, it is less a training than an evaluation. The Council must have been impressed."
"I'm sure they were, but I'm not sure it was for good reasons. Nihlus was badly injured and…" Shepard frowned, "the mission objectives…were not obtained." His gaze wandered around the ceiling for a moment. "So I've gotten no training…and I'm feeling a little underprepared to bring another Spectre back in."
Spectre T'Iar looked up with some surprise. She muted her omitool's audio and read the briefing as one of her VIs compiled it. "Another Spectre? That's not unheard of…but it is rather unusual."
"So here's my opportunity. I get to talk with another Spectre about how to accomplish it."
The briefing displayed on the asari's omnitool was as grim as it was concise; it told her about the attack on Eden Prime, the role of Normandy and of Shepard's fireteam. This is no pawn sacrifice by the Council, she thought. He is already a hero among his own people. "That will depend on the Agent. May I ask who it is?"
"Saren Arterius."
She looked up from her omnitool. "Truly? That may be a challenge," she said slowly. "Has the Council provided you with a detailed dossier?"
"Not that I'm aware of. But I was just given command of the Alliance's new frigate; I was the XO until an hour ago. They'll probably forward it to me there." He smiled to himself. "Can I recruit you as a contractor for this mission? I would welcome the assistance of someone who has been a Spectre for longer than I've been breathing."
The console prompted her noisily. "Just a moment…would you make a fist with your left hand and right foot for this next pass?" The platform tilted up and slightly to the right as she spoke. "And close your eyes."
Shepard did as asked; the noises coming from the scan ring changed noticeably. "So do you know Agent Arterius? Is there anything you know that might help me?"
The asari paused to think. "I mostly know of him. He's something of a legend. The name Saren alone carries weight, you might say. I think you would also say he is a 'lone wolf.' When he works with others, he delegates very specific tasks, sets up his contractors to steer his objective to him, or to wear the objective down. But it is always he who delivers the…coup de grâce."
The platform continued to hum and whir as it moved, changing Shepard's orientation, rescanning, moving again.
She continued, "I know there was one instance where Saren hired the target to make a kill, hired a contractor to be the kill, and then imploded the whole building. It was highly effective; he managed to wipe out nearly all of the actual target's organization with the other conditions he had set up. He is a brilliant strategist. Do not underestimate him."
The scanner finished its work, returning the platform its horizontal-flat orientation.
Shepard raised his eyebrows, looking away in thought. "Thanks for the warning; I'll try to keep that in mind. But what about the contractor posing as a target? How big was the building? Did anyone else get hurt?"
The Spectre nodded slowly. "Almost a thousand people died in collateral damage." T'Iar looked up from the console. "Feel free to put on your underlayer; if you still have time, I'll fit you with Spectre armor."
"Absolutely." Shepard rolled off the table, crossed to the other platform and began to dress.
Agent T'Iar continued, "That incident was fairly early in Saren's career. The Council became more specific about acceptable losses when tasking him. It worked for almost a decade, until Saren stopped caring about secondary objectives. But he can accomplish things that seem impossible. The batarian Hegemony used to be much more powerful until the Council told him to break it." She paused. "But you did not hear that from me."
"Really…?" Maybe this guy isn't all bad, he thought.
"As for getting my assistance, I'm not sure I could help you. I would probably be too much of a distraction, especially to that Marine soldier."
Shepard frowned, thinking about how small and crowded the ship already was. "Hm…good point. But I would still like to keep in touch, use you as a mentor."
"Of course, Agent." One of Shepard's VIs noted the acceptance, polled the area for the appropriate DisplaiD, and recorded the points of contact.
Underwear, socks, and omnitool sleeve on, glove liners in one hand, Shepard looked up at her again. "Getting back to the armor, will my current bioarmor layer be used, or do you have something better?"
"Human bioarmor is sufficient, but we have something potentially better: An Inertial layer. It performs much the same function, but can provide extra strength like an exoskeleton, and better protection against projectiles that make it past your shields." As Shepard folded and compacted his Alliance armor into a carryable configuration, the asari adjusted her view of the information provided by her VI. She continued, "The drawback is that it will not fully integrate with your Alliance SCI, but the latest release now has an integrated DCE. Also, because it is replacing two layers with one, it will reduce your kinetic inefficiency, increase stealth, and increase your ease of motion."
T'Iar had ordered a case for Shepard's "old" armor; it had been placed on the end on the second platform during the scan. After arranging the folded sections inside, he tossed his DCE underlayer in and snapped it closed. "Sounds impressive; I like it already. What do you need from me?"
The asari looked at him with an odd sort of smile; it made her look both sad and intrigued. "Come with me." She turned and headed out of the room.
She led him to another section of the Spectre Office; then turned to the right, reaching into an alcove. "I see your education is in production engineering; I think you'll appreciate this. Put these on the markings over there." She waved an open hand toward the center of the room, and proffered a pair of 2 centimeter-thick gray-green rectangles.
As Shepard took them and moved where indicated, he saw a pair of yellow rectangles marked out on the floor, surrounded by concentric arcs and calibration lights. As his ARO began to put callouts on the equipment surrounding him, he realized what he was seeing, and arranged the two slabs to fit, stepped on them, spread his arms and fingers, and looked straight ahead.
Agent T'Iar looked up from the console. "No need to brief you? Excellent." With an approving nod, she activated the system.
Two massive arms folded out of the ceiling, circling him as they descended.
Scanning, explained his ARO.
The meter-thick arms quick-printed 4mm hexagonal sections of the Inertial Layer; multiple sets of surgical manipulators positioned them at a rate around 37 per second. Drawing power from the arms wirelessly, the yellowish "cells" bonded to each other as they were assigned locations. To Shepard, it felt like he was being covered with tiny bugs, wriggling as they formed their sections of the layer, at which point it began to feel more like he was being dipped in a thick liquid.
Agent T'Iar explained as the armormaker had its way with him, "The Inertial Layer will power up after it integrates with your SCI."
"I assume these two blocks you gave me are the boot soles, already finished, and will be cut to fit after?"
"In fact, no. They are scaffolding. The materials will be assembled into place underneath and replace it. An active metamaterial called Hyderax – developed on Kahje – will use it as raw materials during self-assembly. The result will integrate with your feet to provide a level of protection approaching that of Impervium, motion enhancement that will allow you to operate longer and travel farther on foot, even under load, and with increased stealth. It will also require replacement after a few months of use, so you will need to return here regularly."
"I assume that's part of why the Council wants the Alliance to provide a ship."
"As reasons are measured, this one is quite trivial. The Hydreax will slowly revert to an inert form over time as the material 'dies,' retaining much of its ruggedness, but losing its active enhancements of increased strength and stealth. It will also weigh slightly less."
"Must be expensive."
T'Iar looked up at him. "Your species spent nearly all its development using Scarcity Economy, yes?"
Shepard paused, trying not to let his annoyance show. "The universe is a place of scarcity. Most of it is a hard vacuum. Most of the matter is Dark. What little matter we can easily interact with is hardly ever accommodating to life, let alone our specific kind.
"Even in the comfortable embrace of our home planet's environs, only some areas are readily habitable; humans have argued for centuries whether the most universal human emotion is fear or laziness; without a need to work, most people readily settle into an apathetic stupor. If everyone had everything they wanted, they'd have no place to keep it.
"Scarcity Economy is just the way the universe works."
Another curious glance; the asari's expression became just a hint softer. Empathy? Compassion? Pity?
"Very scarce, and it shows readily," she answered her own question. "Notice that both times I have offered you something, you assume something is required in exchange."
"If scarcity weren't the rule, things would have no value."
"To a degree, that is true. But the relentless advance of civilization has rendered many of the universe's default rules obsolete. Thanks to medicine, a severe injury or disease is no longer a death sentence. We persist on planets utterly hostile to our bodies. Pain itself is nearly optional, as you are personally aware. If we can crack the code of matter, we will be able to transmute anything into almost anything else. We learned how to heal and feed ourselves with science, why should we not use it to create abundance?"
"Left to themselves, people don't know how to behave when they have plenty. Our competitive nature drives us to amass and waste more than we need or can use. Civilian society on Earth already reflects this, and it makes every trip home weirder and weirder. I've become an alien on my own home planet."
"Civilization takes time to adjust to new technologies. The benefits of travel expand the mind. With more able to travel, we discover the world beyond ourselves. If we only focus on ourselves because we must struggle to survive, growth is much rarer, more difficult…slower. People die for mere lack. Abundance is the solution."
Reaching his neck, the armormaker finished its work on the Inertial layer, and lowered its array to start at his feet again. The molecular assemblers in the arms began to make more noise as they changed modes.
T'Iar continued, "And yet you are right: things have only the value we give them. Intelligence…who we are…has intrinsic value. It is what separates a 'what' from a 'who.' In fact, from what you said earlier, I think you'll agree it is all that has value."
The armormaker began in earnest, its arms almost a blur as it began crisscrossing a whitish, sinewy substance along the length of his extremities.
He squinted at her. "I'm getting this from the Spectre who just advised staying focused on the mission, and less about the individual?"
"It is a difficult line we walk, Agent. It requires balance. Exactly when it is better to end someone…or to show mercy…can be difficult to decide, especially in the moment. But only someone who knows both sides of this can hope to judge well. Your culture – and you particularly – value the individual, particularly when compared to the other two Council races. This is important, and I think it is one of the reasons Councillor Tevos was very much in favor of your selection. At present, the Council's Agents are generally respected and feared; we think they should be respected and trusted."
In the silence that followed, Shepard noticed the intricate dance being performed by the armormaker as it began to assemble the next layer. Its noises changed again.
Shepard froze in thought; he didn't dare gesture for 6x acceleration during the armoring, but wished he had more time to think. This was a significant revelation. "And yet it seems you would have to be disappointed in our species' social growth to date."
"That is true in some ways, not in others." Agent T'Iar turned her head and looked at another display. "But before we get to that, you may feel the Inertial layer begin to move your extremities as the power layer is assembled and attached. In addition to range-of-motion, it is also calibrating how much force is required to prompt you to move.
"As the armor contains its own DCE intelligence, it will use its sensors and your own omnitool to stay aware of things you might miss on your own. For example, it can potentially help you step aside from a bullet, move or even jump to safety if your current location becomes unstable, or call attention to potentially important information on your HUD. Oh, I'm sorry; it looks like you have a full Augmented Reality implant with visual overlay. That is actually better, because the bandwidth is higher."
The Inertial layer had already begun its process; Shepard found it was something like dancing as the following partner. "Right, then. So the asari have social plans for humanity?"
T'Iar looked up impishly. "Conspiracy theory, Agent Shepard?"
"Call it 'healthy paranoia,' Agent T'Iar."
"Well…that would be telling." With a subtle head tilt, the asari looked back down at the console. "Truly, the Republics have no more plans for humans than the Alliance has plans for asari. Individuals may have opinions or even agendas, but the execution of those plans depends on a great many variables."
The asari continued, "Still, perhaps you have read some of the psychology studies that show more humans are inclined to generosity when they are not operating under the burden of perceived scarcity. There is a measurable – and non-trivial – cognitive load imposed by the sense that survival is a struggle. Many of the major social and early scientific advances in your own history were made by people who were already "wealthy," or at least born into "privilege" – gentleman scientists seems to be the phrase – like Nikola Tesla or James Clerk Maxwell."
Shepard countered, "And yet the majority of people today who don't have to work to survive spend their days in PVR, or causing mischief. Most of them have never had to be mature enough to care for themselves. As machine intelligences take over the necessary operations of keeping people fed and sheltered, the people find increasingly destructive – or self-destructive – ways to pass the time. I assume the same thing is true on Thessia, or the Eclipse group would never have gotten started."
"Then you probably assume incorrectly. Have you ever met Jona Sederis?"
Shepard waited for his ARO to provide him with some relevant information; instead, the display blinked, and then showed only basic information about location, time, direction, and so on. It looked like a soft reset of his ARO appliance. "Uh…my ARO just rebooted."
"Then let me assure you that the leader and founder of the Eclipse mercenaries is a psychopath. For myself, I would consider it community service to hunt her down. But that would simply create a power vacuum in an organization that, while dangerous and malicious, is at least well-understood by the Spectres, and even used from time to time.
"In fact, most asari are highly cooperative. Outliers are often left to discover the errors of their ways."
The Spectre lapsed into silence as the armormaker continued to operate. Considering their size, the arms moved quickly, and very precisely. Shepard knew the best way to stay safe was to stay still.
He noticed that the synthetic muscles being applied were coordinating their motions as they calibrated. He was glad to have been warned. "Alright, then; new topic: How did the Spectres get started? And I don't mean the official version. I mean, what can I as a Spectre now know about the origins of the organization?"
Her laugh was surprisingly musical. "To begin with, 'Spectre' isn't the way the word in Thesserit actually renders into your language. Remember, it stands for Special Tactics And Reconaissance. The most obvious acronym in your own tongue is STAR, and this word also has multiple meanings in your language as well, much more like what was intended: A powerful light against the ever-present galactic darkness, a source of life and hope."
The asari's VI did some research and added a briefing to her ARA; Era read it directly, "However, someone in your Alliance probably thought that sounded wrong, like one of your industrial age heroes; Bass Reeves and Wyatt Earp seem to be examples. Apparently law enforcement uses the star already, so the Alliance liaison tried to add a little mystique, or intrigue.
"As for how we got started, it was long ago, shortly after the formation of the Council. The Council didn't want to grant cross-jurisdictional authority to multiple agencies, but they did agree to create a new agency with only the most capable agents. The first was a salarian, Beelo Geerjay. He was considered a 'loose cannon' by some, but he was effective. The turian and asari councilors added their own choices to the first wave, and the Spectres, as you would say, were born."
# # #
Maybe I should watch an episode of Updater just to find out what the fuss is all about.
With water running down his body in tiny rivulets, the warm spray hammering the back of his head, the distinctively fragrant lather of nanotech detergent, Shepard relaxed for a few seconds before the thought of tomorrrow's landing pulled him squarely into the present again.
After toweling dry, he curled up in bed, selected the compressed rest from his omnitool, and was instantly asleep.
*** Glossary ***
ARA: Augmented Reality Appliance
ARO: Augmented Reality Overlay
bosri: A hummus-like paste made of a protein-rich algae originally native to Rannoch.
CFS: Chief Flight Surgeon
CO: Commanding Officer
DCE: Distributed Computing Environment
esig: electromagnetic signature
fendus: A turian wafer made from a plant of the same name. Normally offered only as a garnish, this crispy, spade-shaped scoop is often used to collect blood from the prey food.
figmo: sometimes referred to as "short timer's disease," figmo is a misplaced attitude that one can, "Forget It, [I've] Got My Orders," and blow off other tasks until shipping out on a new assignment.
FTL: Faster Than Light
SNAFU: Situation Normal: All Fouled Up
SOCM: Special Operations Combat Medicine training. (Pronounced "sock 'em.") Soldiers earn more professional credit by increasing their value in the field. Almost always taken remotely.
SOP: Standard Operating Procedure
SPC: Sleep Pod Corridor
TPM: Trusted Platform Module
A/N - Sorry this took so long; keeping the details as much in mind as possible is almost as important as getting to the Big Finish. And I don't mean defeating one reaper, I mean all of them; there's a lot of story to tell…and fix.
Once again, shout-out to LuckyFK for the original art of asari Commando Era T'Iar, available for your viewing pleasure on DeviantART dot com.
And for clarity, that's T'Iar, not T'Lar.
Again, sorry for the protracted silence. Had a rare and wonderful opportunity, and instead bought the wrong house at the wrong time. Lots of expensive repairs, lots of things to move out of pods and keep out of the way until they're done.I promise I won't let anyone down (myself included) by giving up on this story. I wish I could write something as educational and enjoyable as HPMOR (I'm inserting as much rationalist stuff as I can,) but I think it's important to be as true to the Mass Effect story as possible.
