"Joker, what's the ETA for the signal?" Shepard asked, hoping beyond hope for the briefest of breaks.
"Hmm… Looks like we gotta couple hours, Cap'. Whatever it is, its smack dab in the middle of nowhere. We've been out of the relay for about 4 hours now, and we've still gotta ways to go. Here's to hoping our engines don't cut out, eh?"
That wasn't a pleasant thought. They really were on the edge of known space. Joker hit the nail right on the head - they were in the middle of nowhere. If that wasn't a reason to fret, well….
Shepard slunk his way towards the elevator past the crew, nodding as he went, hoping to catch a quick meal before a couple hours of shuteye. The past few days had taken their toll, stretching everyone, especially the 'biotically inclined' a great deal more than what was normally recommended.
As the elevator doors opened up, he hummed quietly to himself, trying to block out the thoughts of the next while. He could focus on that later. The music was calming, if slightly annoying, as elevator tunes tended to be.
As the lift descended, and slowly opened, he saw Grunt out of the corner of his eye leaving the mess hall, hands full of food. He heard the faint laughs and jokes of fellow crew members. As he entered the hall, a pleasant aroma reached his nose. He saw Tali and Jacob sharing stories over a meal, with Thane and Samara. hanging nearby. It seemed the rest of the team had finished and was using the time to rest up. Rightfully so, and from the tired looks in the eyes of the crew, save Tali, he knew that the group here was eager for a break.
Sitting down amongst the four, a tray of food being set down on the table, he nodded quietly to the group. Normally, a joke would be shared, fun poked at those present, but he wasn't particularly in the mood.
"Shepard! How are you doing? You look tired!" Tali said as he sat. She always was a little cheerier than the others on the ship, her youth and enthusiasm rounding out the personalities of those present.
"Doing well, I'm never too tired to go ape on some slavers. That last mission was…. Satisfying. Long, but satisfying," he replied heartily as his mouth began to fill with various food stuffs. The grunts of acknowledgment from those next to him keyed him into the attitude of those present towards the slave colonies. Even Samara., who was normally much more, well, indifferent to a number of operations they embarked on, seemed glad to be rid of that many more slavers.
"I think we're doing well as a team," Jacob added. "Seems like we're getting more and more efficient – I didn't see anything really noteworthy on the last op. Bit of touch and go sometimes, but hey – can't complain."
James had to agree, it had gone just as well as he had hoped, if not slightly better than he had expected. It had been a long time coming, but they were finally gelling as a team.
"I have also noticed a significant increase in productivity in the crew. It would appear that they are more eager about the goal we have set out to achieve," mentioned Samara. in her calm tones that tended to draw attention. "You have done well Shepard, I can expect nothing but the best in the days to come." He nodded, the Justicar's subtle compliment reaching him in more ways than one.
Then he remembered – he didn't really want to think about the next little bit. That's why he came down here – wasn't it? Time to shift the mood – something he had always wondered about. "Hey Tali, I noticed that Gardner has been experimenting more and more with the dextro stuff. How is it?"
She shrugged, "Eh, I mean its better than it has been. Still nothing compared to the Rayya's specialty food stations. Those are something else," the Quarian mentioned almost wistfully.
"What does it… taste like?" He was curious. Levo and dextro were so different, and yet, so similar. She thought for a moment, and then shrugged again.
"Dunno, I mean, you have to really try to find out. It like describing colors to someone who can't see them. It may taste different, it may not. I cannot tell you for sure. It just tastes… well, like food," was the answer, which seemed to make sense. It was a little deeper than what he was going for, but he guessed it was an answer all the same. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Jacob warily eyed to dish before the Quarian, as if mentally trying to determine if it was worth being bedridden for – just to try.
Shepard for his part, was pondering an old phrase that had something to do with the taste of salt, or more accurately, describing the taste of said salt. He looked back to the masked woman's dish, his mouth open to ask a question-
"No Shepard. You're not trying this. I couldn't care less what'd do to you, but this is the first somewhat appealing meal I've had in months. Eat. Your. Own." The stern answer had him close his mouth. The Commander had a slightly childish habit of taste-testing unfamiliar foods when he got the chance, and it had been a good while since he'd had the chance to fully indulge his curiosity.
"Seriously though, I don't know about you, but never, in my entire life, have I met someone who died from eating dextro. Think its a load of bullshit," smirked Jacob, as curious as his commander. "Just a little bit. A nibble." A running joke had gone between him, the Commander, and Garrus ever since they had a slight… mishap when the accidentally wandered into a Krogan restaurant on the Citadel. Sharing food with other crew members, or rather, getting them to share food with them had turned into a rather enjoyable little game.
And so it went on, the jokes and banter continuing until time whittled away, and Shepard knew he had little option but to rest before another potentially dangerous situation reared its head in the form of their next operation. Even if it was nothing, there was a change that it wasn't. And if it wasn't, he would be damned if he would be fighting a reaper force with naught but a few hours sleep.
With his mind made up, he and the other combat personnel of the Normandy made their ways to their respective bunks, eager for a moments respite.
OOOO
Joker's cheerful voice sounded over the comms,"We're coming into range soon, Commander, might wanna get on the bridge and prepped when that happens." Of course he was cheerful. He hadn't spent the last few days hoofing it across the planet and gunning down aliens. Cursing him under his breath, James Shepard rose from his bed, fully clothed (too lazy / tired to remove his clothes) and went into the elevator on the way to the bridge.
Once there, Joker gave him a cheeky grin. "Looking good there Commander! You seem rather spry today."
"Fuck you, Joker." Joker knew he was sore and the brief sleep he had managed had come to an abrupt end- he was just trying to rub it in. The pilot chuckled. The audacity.
"Don't worry! The ride in'll be gentler than an Asari at a Quarian orgy."
"What?"
"Eh, just a phrase. Anyways, we are T-Minus 23 minutes to target, the crew is downstairs in the bay, prepped and ready to go. Think you might've needed a few extra minutes to, um, digest."
An eyebrow raised, questioningly. "Digest?"
"That's exactly what Garrus asked! You know, its really not that uncommon to have large gas buildup if you take a nap after you eat."
"And who said I have gas?"
"No one did Commander, I was just using my, ahem, biological expertise to point out a fact of human digestive systems. Might've told the crew to be on the lookout."
"Course you did," Shepard said irritably as we left the bridge and moved into the elevator, getting out to head to the armory, where he was sure the rest of the team would be, getting ready for the mission.
And of course, there they were. Looking just as tired as him, they were suited up and ready to go. He was proud of them. They had come a long way. Of course, there were the occasional arguments, emphasis on occasional, more often than not occurring between Miranda and Jack. And Grunt and Jack. And well, come to think of it, Jack and everyone on this ship had some sort of ongoing argument over something or other. He supposed that's how she dealt with stress, by lashing out. It seemed that for the large part, the crew didn't seem to have too big of a problem with it actually, as they had probably realized the same thing. With the exception of a certain white-suited, biotic, Cerberus operative.
He could feel a slight level of animosity towards Miranda from the rest of the crew, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He knew it was more than likely due to the fact that no one from Cerberus would probably ever be located on the list of the Galaxies most popular celebrities, but he couldn't quite gauge what they felt towards her. It varied from seething hatred, in the case of Jack, to discontent at her presence, such as was the case with those of a more 'noble' disposition.
"Alright boys and girls, we've got a special one. Picked up a unknown signal deep in dark space 20 minutes from our current location. We, meaning the Illusive Man and myself, have a sinking suspicion this might have to do with the collectors, or the reapers. Regardless, this is the best lead we've got in awhile. I need everyone in tip-top shape, no slouching. I know we're tired, but this is our best chance we got of getting closer to the finish line. Miranda." He left his Cerberus XO to take it away from there.
He himself zoned out slightly. Of course, he heard everything mentioned, how the radiation spike was similar to the output exhibited by a Mass Relay, but not quite, he heard the part about what to expect in terms of possible opposition, and a couple other facts that he was surprised to hear. He knew intel was sparse on this, but it seems like not even Miranda wanted to let them know exactly how sparse it actually was. She wasn't necessarily making up facts, but it did seem to help ease the tension that had unconsciously forced its way into the room. Shepard, for his part, was more focusing on the implications of this next operation. Possible scenarios floated through his head. 'Collectors… Reapers… Batarians… Ship full of Asari adult film stars…' Hmm. That wasn't a distracting thought.
And so the briefing went, followed by a quick weapons check, and no more than a few groans from Jack's general location, and some mumbling about 'over-prepping' and showing off.
The team was more silent than usual, Garrus' occasional attempt to lighten the mood, Jack's mumbling, Zaeed's whispering were about the only things to break the 'noise ban' that had seemingly entered the room. The whole team could feel it – something was different about this. Despite Miranda's best attempts at a smooth briefing, they could tell things didn't add up.
Miranda agreed. There was too little information here. If only-
"Shepard, yooouuuu may want to get to the bridge. Like right now." Interrupted Joker's voice over the PA system. Miranda frowned. It wasn't like Joker to display… urgency. His laid back attitude was a constant among the ships ever-changing crew and conditions. Not only that, but he seemed almost worried – confused.
Miranda and the Commander shared a look, and wasting not a single second more, Shepard made for the elevator, the mumbles of the crew left behind. And there they waited, butterflies filling stomachs like a holiday meal at grandmothers. And waited.
"Soooo, guesses?" Ventured Garrus.
"Collectors, gotta be. No one makes it out this far," confidently asserted Jacob.
"Maybe its another Batarian ship – they've been known to wander," came a thought from Tali's direction.
"Maybe, y'all should just shut the hell up. Tired of your yammering," went a voice from the ships resident psychopath, clearly tired of listening the 'Cerberus bitch' for more that a few seconds at a time, her voice gave her a headache, and these jackasses were just making it worse.
Grunt chuckled, a low rumble of agreement. He rarely agreed with humans, but Jack seemed to think like a Krogan about 50% of the time.
"Shut up, lizard-breath."
"Make me, shortcake." Most of Grunt's insults came in the form of mentioning the physical stature of his adversary. They weren't very clever. They almost never were.
Jack exhaled out her nose, low and slow. "You pie-"
"Everybody meet me outside the airlock – now." Came Shepard's voice, an unfamiliar tone tinting his usual confidence. It was… unsure.
It shut them all up, they shared another look, and crammed into the elevator.
