How long has it been, he wondered.
This grand catastrophe in the making, that had led him all the way here and now. Years, obviously. But when had it started? Truly started? What had been the first piece to fall over as a consequence of his choices, that began the inevitable spiraling out of control, until it all culminated in this? He couldn't tell. Perhaps it had been something so innocuous that he hadn't paid any attention to it at the time.
The end result was the same anyhow. Even if he had known, he couldn't have stopped it. For that matter, he wouldn't have even tried.
It was the end of that long and perilous road.
Here he was, alone once again. Awaiting the judgment of the rest of the world, at the conclusion of his ideals. White on white walls, all around him, caging him in. Impermeable. Unbreakable. Unchanged for who knew how long. Closing in on him, day by day.
His answer lay just ahead, soon enough. It wouldn't be long now, that much was obvious.
Those outside were afraid of him.
They did not know what to make of him. Not before he had walked up to them, nor after he had announced his intentions with full candor. He had accepted their fear, their anger and their confusion without hesitation and opened his arms to receive it all.
That had only scared them further.
Well, the more things change...
;
A storm raged. Crashing and breaking. All around her.
Death.
Helpless. Every step forward was too slow; more were suffering and dying because of her. Because of her. All because of her. Mars. Elysium. All because of her—She opened her eyes and somehow the change left her more at a loss than the turbulent dream had.
Above her, a white ceiling.
A few seconds later she realized she needed to breathe and she let her burning lungs start working again. Cold sweat clung to her body. The cot, moist underneath her touch and the gown she was wearing were both cool to the touch. Yet despite her body running hot, it didn't feel pleasant at all. Rather, she just felt tired. Sore and tired.
Shepard looked around, taking in the room she was in.
Austere. Plain white cloth. Little more than a tent with her cot lying inside of it. On the other side of the space was another cot, but it was empty. She realized that she must have been just operated on, if she was lying around here.
Had she been wounded?
Emiya.
The memories came rushing back and she kicked off the cover, almost jumping out of bed before she flinched from the mind-wracking pain exploding in her mind, radiating all the way up to her chest from her knee. Blinking back the cry of anger, she grit her teeth and looked around.
She was alone. There was no one here.
Emiya, he was here. I know he was here!
His appearance had changed; his skin had seemed tanner and his eyes had lost that honey-shade of amber she remembered from years ago. And he was much more withdrawn and sullen than she remembered, even from the earliest days of basic. But he had responded to that name. It had definitely been that man she remembered.
And he was nowhere to be seen now.
Her knuckles turned white as she clenched her fist, the sheet on the cot straining between her fingers as the dials on the panel reflected her agitated state. He left... He really just left. Again.
Anger. Yet also relief. She felt like her head was swimming, yet there were both of those emotions there. He was alive after all, and even if that fact only raised a hundred questions about everything, that he was still alive and well was a fact that she could feel relief and joy over.
But he had really just up and disappeared, hadn't he?!
"That son of—"
"Good grief. But at least that will serve as an answer, seeing as how you never bothered to speak up."
Her eyes shot wide open and her head swiveled towards that voice. Her jaw fell open as she blinked silently. She could have sworn no one had been there a moment before, yet there he was sitting on a chair with his legs crossed.
"After all, only a complete idiot would try to jump out of their bed onto a broken leg. It's a shame you didn't; I would have never let you live it down," he said with a crooked smirk.
Anger surged inside her, bursting into a blazing bonfire anew as she realized he was within easy reach after all! A hundred questions on her lips and with a thousand complaints on her mind, she opened her mouth.
Only to promptly close it, all forgotten as she blinked.
"Emiya, is... is that you?" She asked, staring now.
He looked up, giving her a long-suffering sigh before raising a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. "Who else?"
His hair had gone white.
Completely white, unlike anything she had ever seen in person. Even those who aged and grayed tended to have a silvery sheen to their hair, not this... Almost snow-white. Contrasting with his darker skin, and those sharp gray eyes, she had a difficult time reconciling the man before her with the man she had once known.
But it was definitely him. The demeanor was the same—his voice, while tighter and rougher was still just as she remembered it.
Yet...?
"You grew your hair?" Somehow that little thing changed his persona entirely.
"Those are your first words? Had I known, I would have cut it to save us the bother. But yeah," he nodded, not finding the observation particularly important even as he raised a hand to his head. "Or rather, buzz cuts aren't my style. Brings back bad memories."
"Oh..." She realized she must have touched a nerve.
He had had short hair when they had parted, right before according to Emiya he had been kidnapped and had to fight his way to the Citadel, where he had to make a deal with the salarians. She hadn't meant anything by the observation, but somehow she felt like she should have—
"What's with that expression, as if you had just crashed my funeral? Don't misunderstand, it just reminds me of a time I had to get into and break out of jail, nothing more."
"Oh, okay—Wait, when were you in prison?"
He blinked, looking up in that manner she remembered.
That way he did when he had been remembering something and said something he immediately regretted, but didn't want to lie about. "...Actually, forget I said anything."
She had to laugh; his manner of evading questions hadn't changed at all in these years, at least. What had she been thinking about asking him before, again...?
"But seeing as how you're awake and feeling all better already, here."
Shepard almost didn't manage to catch the datapad he tossed at her with a lackadaisical backhand. She was sure he was aiming for her forehead on purpose, too.
Frowning, she asked. "What's this?"
"Since I took the liberty of stealing your Alliance Intelligence persona, I figured I might as well put it to good use for a little quid pro quo."
"You did what!?" She sat up, staring at him with wide eyes.
"Well it was either that, or letting Major Kyle and Justicar Anatha realize that you were working for the AIA and forcing me to fight my way out, all while burning you in the process for having tried to cover for me. Your incoherent ramblings really did us no favors."
Shepard blinked, furrowing her brows as she tried to remember what had happened. And then she did. "Oh... That was pretty stupid of me."
"You're an idiot, yes. I think we have established that fairly solidly by now. Luckily I managed to somehow salvage that mess." He was smirking at her, she could tell even without looking at him. She just knew he was. "Well, by 'salvage', I mean I am now a representative of the Alliance Intelligence Agency on an important mission. There wasn't much in your files that I could use for cover, so I had to make something up and then fake the authorizations on the fly."
"That's..." She wasn't sure what to think of that.
For one, if anyone—be they Navy or Alliance Intelligence—found out her credentials had been taken, she would be in a world of shit. For another, she had no idea how he had managed to figure it all out and fool everyone. She hadn't even managed to say her whole service number before.
"...Okay, let's take it from the top... Files?"
He nodded. "Yes. On your omnitool."
A shiver ran up her spine. They stared at each other for a long moment. He broke through the AIA protections that quickly? That's...
Using the intercom was one thing, but getting past all of the stuff on her omnitool was something entirely different. No, wait. Didn't he say he hacked open the batarians' servers too? And what was that about authorizations?
"What the hell kind of hacker are you, exactly...?"
"Something of a faker, really." He chuckled, though it seemed to be self-deprecating than anything. "But it ties in to that excuse I gave to those two, regarding my important mission for the Alliance Intelligence Agency. My cover is that I'm here to hunt down a hacker known as Redhax. I assume you've at least heard of him."
She blinked.
Well that explained his competence with computers. If you wanted to catch a hacker, you had to essentially be a hacker yourself. But something about that didn't sit quite right. "That Citadel hacker? Why would he be here...? You said you work freelance, so were you after him from the start, or—"
Emiya raised a hand to forestall any further questions. Noting that he had her silence and attention, he merely pointed down at the datapad in her lap.
"I had them compile that just for this reason. It should cover everything pertinent. And save me a lot of talking in the process."
Frowning, she turned on the display and figured that giving it a look couldn't hurt. Even if she would rather just ask him directly.
'Redhax aka Fujimura Saiga aka Emiya Shirou. Human, male, age unknown, estimated age in early twenties. Currently the galaxy's most wanted man for numerous counts of...'
As if the first paragraph hadn't been enough—listing out a truly staggering array of offenses, crimes and general mayhem wasn't enough—the picture right next to it showing his face certainly did. It even had his 'normal' colors, except he had the longer hair there too.
"What."
She looked up, flat disbelief obvious.
Waiting for him to reveal that he was merely joking the whole time. She looked down again, eyes boring into that picture of him.
"What."
He merely shrugged, as if it were nothing more than a laundry list. Her head swam again and she had to breathe slowly, pinching her brow with her fingers as she tried to calm down.
"Okay, okay... So you're the galaxy's most wanted man, okay... Wow, I wasn't expecting that. Why are you showing me all this?"
Emiya scoffed. "Because you wanted to know what I had been doing, didn't you? It's all there, more or less."
She looked at him and then down at the compiled list of events, all marked with further links and with numerous summaries and analyses. Dated and detailed, stretching back easily the five years he had been gone, it seemed like there hadn't been a day when he hadn't been up to something.
How had she missed this? She had known about Redhax, of course...
But it had only been days ago that names and a face could be attached to that individual. The Thessia incident, which was still being held under wraps by the asari and the Citadel had been the catalyst to that change, she realized. That massive upheaval that had sent the Citadel economy crashing and left half the galaxy frozen in shock.
That had been him? He had been involved in that?
Shepard looked up at him, and though he wasn't looking at her she could sense a tenseness to him. He was like a coiled up spring, compressed under pressure and simply waiting for the first opportunity to spring away. Like the weight of the entire galaxy was pressing down on him.
No wonder he hadn't wanted to deal with anyone here directly. But what did he want here? Something about that asari VIP. It must tie in with why he wanted to go to Mars; to see the Prothean ruins. That's what he said years ago... Or was he lying?
Something rose up inside her at that thought; a vehement denial. He wouldn't lie to her. Even so, that didn't mean he was always honest with her. Because he would keep quiet and not tell me anything.
But...
That could all wait.
Tossing aside the datapad and turning around on the cot so she was facing him, she crossed her arms. "Who cares about that stuff. I want to know what you've been doing. I thought you were dead, Emiya."
He blinked and turned to look at her with a crease between his brows, obviously slightly taken aback by her complete lack of interest in the datapad. Touch and point.
Clearing his throat, he looked away.
"...Nothing really, I suppose. The dossier pretty much covers it all."
"Yeah, but you're here and I hate reading reports anyhow. Why didn't you ever call me? I thought you were dead. I went to that house on Mars, I saw what was left after it had all melted into a pile of slag... Why didn't you tell me you were alive?"
"That's..." He paused, and she realized that it had never occurred to him to do so.
It had literally never even occurred to him to call in.
Had he just... written her off? No, that wasn't right? Something about this wasn't right at all. What was she missing?
She inhaled slowly, feeling some of her temper returning. But she kept it under wraps. Right, right. He said he was kidnapped by Burnsfeldt. By an organization, that had infiltrated the Alliance Navy deeply enough to have an N6 and one of the instructors from boot camp on their payroll.
Which meant that he had no way of knowing whether she was under surveillance. Or actually, if Emiya is Redhax, then the AIA probably knew the whole time. But they never told me, which means they were trying to trap him the whole time, which means—
"Those sons of bitches!"
They had been using her the whole time! No wonder getting the job seemed too easy! They were just using me as bait!
Emiya blinked and Shepard realized she had been entirely side-tracked. Clearing her throat, she tried to remember what they had just been talking about. That line of thought could wait. This was more important. Compartmentalize; deal with it later.
Clearing her throat, she rolled back the conversation in her head.
"You did nothing. You? For five years?" She said, raising an eyebrow.
"Err..."
She had a hard time believing that.
He had always been doing something back in boot camp. He looked slightly uncomfortable now, as if not sure what she was expecting him to say. Like she was pressing on a nerve, but he refused to admit that anything was wrong.
But she didn't look away, staring at him intently.
Finally, he sighed and gestured vaguely with one hand as he spoke. "...Well, I was on Thessia, attending a university, but beyond that there was nothing special."
"You got into an alien university? That's pretty amazing!" She didn't bother to keep the hint of surprise and awe from her voice, hoping that it would get him talking.
But his blank stare and shrug deflated that conversational ploy before it even got off the ground. Usually stroking people's egos worked to get them talking...
What had he liked, back then? Messing with people. Guns. Cleaning. Fiddling with everything he could get his hands on. Reading about everything. Manuals. Learning stuff. Food—
Food. He had eaten like a horse and his cooking had been some of the best she had ever had. If there was something that could crack him open, it was food.
"Is that really all you did? Did you at least learn any local cuisine? Do the asari even cook? Do they even eat?" She didn't actually know, now that she thought about it. She didn't remember seeing any of the commandos eat, at least.
He blinked, completely taken aback by the sudden change in topic. And then with a chuckle that seemed to unwind something inside of him, he nodded. "Yeah, they do. It's actually pretty interesting. Since biotics are so prevalent among them, and the water is so heavily infused with eezo that it gives a strange tang to everything. So they developed an entirely unique method for preparing food. Of course, since it relies so heavily on biotics and decades of practice, it's not something I could just pick up. Instead I took a few simple dishes I could find recordings of and broke them down into simpler processes that I could replicate using—"
Okay, wow that worked really well. In fact, I have no idea what he's talking about.
Noticing her nonplussed reaction, he stopped and cleared his throat. "Well, anyhow. I did learn some new cuisine and methods while I was there. It's not that important."
"No, no. Tell me more. What do you mean they don't use water? Like, isn't there water in everything?"
He actually seemed tempted for a moment, before his eyes darted to the side. "Maybe another time. Someone is coming."
"Huh?"
And then he was gone. Even the chair he had been sitting on seemingly having vanished into thin air before she knew it. She blinked, rubbing her eyes and looking around the room, yet not finding him anywhere. Cloaking...?
The flap opening on the tent moved and a medical orderly entered. "Ah, good to see that you're awake. Well then, let us go through the specifics of the operation, your prescription medications for ensuring your body will not reject the new organs, and then finally go through the last of the paperwork."
"Oh—alright. Uh, actually gimme a sec," Shepard said as she nodded, still trying to find any signs of Emiya. "Hey, you! I know you're here! We're not done, you hear?!" As the silence of the room was her only answer, she cleared her throat and looked at the clearly uncomfortable man before her. "Lay it on me, doc."
The man cleared his throat, looking up from his datapad and frowning. "I am not a doctor. But let us, yes. Your operation lasted 1 hour and 13 minutes and there were no complications. There were six slugs and four pieces of steel shrapnel were extracted from your intestines and abdomen..."
;
Emiya exhaled quietly, tuning out most of the orderly's talking as he stayed out of the way and out of sight.
He had already read the report anyhow. It and some of the related files and appendices. Because just as he had suspected, this wasn't a one time thing. For several of the achievements listed in her military record, there was an update made to her medical record at the same date. Not the following dates, which might have suggested a number of things, but on the same day. Nothing quite on the level of today, but she did get injured quite often.
Shaking his head, he dismissed those thoughts for the umpteenth time; she was many things, but suicidal was not one of them. As far as she or those under her command went.
Reckless, yet calculating.
Or rather, she had a clear sense of priorities.
There were a dozen notifications about how much gear she was abusing and breaking. Normally the loss of a gun wasn't something that was just shrugged off, but it seemed like Shepard regularly went through months' worth of gear out on the field. Most of the costs had been docked from her salary, but it seemed as if she was a logistical black hole at times. Anything within arm's reach that could help her in the field...
And it seemed to have gotten worse since the Blitz. And as a result it seemed that she had made few if any friends among the commanding officers. Especially among the brass of this operation it seemed, as he listened in to a meeting through one of the omnitools he had patched through to.
"Finally, what about Shepard?"
"Sir?"
"That Staff Lieutenant who was ordered to hold position and secure the captives. The one who ran off and got herself shot up. What of her?"
"Shepard... Shepard. That's right, now I remember."
"General Maeda?"
"Leave her be. The marines and N7 play by different rules from the infantry; the admirals won't let us touch her even if we had something. She was a rule breaker back in boot camp and back then it got her a ticket to the Villa. With how those asari have been swooning over her, I am certain she'll receive a commendation for this."
"A commendation! She should be demoted!"
"Fat chance the Parliament would sign off on that."
"I believe we should rein matters back to the subject at hand. Lieutenant Shepard's actions during the operation have already been tabled," this voice he recognized at least.
He's not a bad organizer and project manager, huh. For all that the man didn't have what it took to stand on the front-lines, his talent at handling them in the abstract was peerless.
Emiya felt like he was watching a chess grandmaster at play, with how logistics would be ordered even before actual reports regarding a need would come in.
A real talent for reading the tables and charts.
"Certainly, but I believe the matter was to be shelved until the vessel she had highlighted for boarding and searching through was found."
"And it turned out that she was right all along, meaning that she is certain to come away squeaky clean from this debacle."
"Rules matter only as much as they bring results. They are not an end unto themselves, gentlemen. That is enough on the subject of Staff Lieutenant Shepard."
He sighed, pulling his focus out of that conversation as his interest was lost. Checking the various ship logs and comms, he noted that the Janiri's Sickle hadn't been found yet. Changing its transponder had been a good idea, since that kept most, if not all flags from being raised in the automated systems that might have recognized the starship.
Of course, if anyone bothered to take a closer visual on the thing, they might still recognize it. He had gotten rid of the name and serial number on its hull, but it was still a high-end asari corvette. Which would make it stand out anywhere in the galaxy, least of all this backwater. Maybe I should just "find it" and claim it as evidence for the Systems Alliance. I'm already hunting myself as it is, maybe an achievement like that would look good?
But that would mean giving up the starship, more or less. Someone from the Council or Thessia would doubtlessly demand its return sooner or later. And even if that didn't happen, it wouldn't solve his antimatter problem.
Sighing, he glanced at the medical orderly who was trying to talk to Shepard, his annoyance at her apparent lack of attention obvious. Is she really trying to find me? What an obstinate woman.
He had plugged himself into the base's power-lines, allowing him to remain invisible indefinitely to avoid having to talk to people. But that also meant he couldn't move around too much.
What was he going to do about all this?
She was asking all sorts of questions and it was putting him off his game. It was difficult trying to focus on how to get cleanly away from all this when she kept throwing curve-balls at him. For a moment he simply considered leaving without saying anything.
It would be the quickest method. But the fallout...
Emiya blinked, standing up straight as he picked up something on the comms. Without hesitation he turned around and unplugged himself from the outlet and disengaged his cloak behind the orderly, donning the face-covering helmet in one smooth move.
"I'll be right back," he said, making the man jump and Shepard frown as she realized she had been dead wrong the entire time as to where he had been standing.
Ignoring everything going on as the Alliance personnel was handling the aftermath of the battle, he moved towards the stairs he had taken hours prior with Shepard. Arriving all the way at the bottom, he quietly pushed himself in among the Alliance soldiers who were standing around the open doors to the elevator shaft.
The same that led down to the bottom.
They were pulling out something from there now; three bodies. Batarians, he knew. The ones he had left there. I forgot about them entirely, but what happened?
Their dead forms made everyone there erupt into hushed conversation. How couldn't they? Each of the three batarians had torn out their own eyes, two of their throats had been ripped open and the last one's skull had caved in. Almost as if he had run headfirst into a stone wall.
Emiya frowned.
Was there something down there?
But he had made sure nothing had been there; there shouldn't have been anything capable of taking out three heavily armed and armored batarians down there. Those wounds almost look like batarian teeth...
Aside from the wounds visible at first glance, there was nothing of consequence on their bodies. Inhaling, Emiya muscled past the group and to the elevator shaft.
"Hey! What are you—"
"Are there still people down there?" He asked, staring down the soldier.
"Uh, yeah, yeah they're looking—"
He didn't wait longer, dropping down to the bottom with a single step over the edge. Four lights instantly homed in on him as his boots impacted on the roof of the elevator car.
"What the fuck! You almost scared the shit out of me!"
"Wait, the fuck are you...?"
He cleared his throat, raising his omnitool and letting the holographic badge light up in the darkness. "Alliance Intelligence. How many of you are there down here?"
"Alliance Intelligence? What the hell...? Uh, two four-man teams, sir," came the hesitant reply as four heads looked at each other in confusion.
Which meant one of the teams had gone in deeper.
"I am declaring this a hazard site. Get back up and inform the personnel to set up a level 3 NBC-quarantine for this level. Report yourselves for a full medical and psych evaluation."
The four looked at each other, their heads waggling left and right as they obviously couldn't comprehend what was going on.
"But, sir..."
"Do it," he ground out as he jumped down. "Before I have you court-martialed."
That seemed to do it, even if he was fairly certain he didn't have that kind of authority, regardless of the authenticity of his cover. They grumbled, but moved to start climbing back up the shaft.
Once the last man was climbing up, Emiya turned around and began to run down the narrow tunnel, towards the room he had explored the first time he had been down here. As he moved, he kept all of his senses peeled for any kind of movement or hostility, seeking out that thin presence he thought he had sensed before.
But before he could find anything unusual, he caught up to the second team.
"Who's there!"
"Hold your fire, Alliance Intelligence." Emiya immediately identified himself as they came to view.
Though given the twitchy reactions of the two aiming their rifles at him, they must have thought he was a spook of an entirely other kind. "What the hell is Alliance Intelligence doing here?"
"This place just got sealed. Pull out and report with the other team that came down with you."
"Shit, there really is something down here..." One of them muttered, only to get told to shut up by one of his teammates.
"...Fine. But who'll handle this place then?"
"I'll secure it myself, don't worry about it," Emiya reassured the team-leader. But he wasn't having it.
"Bullshit. If my team has to pull out, then there's obviously something down here. Sir, you're not even armed, and we've sealed suits! If you're staying then we're coming with you."
Emiya frowned, but instead of arguing the point only nodded. Sticking together might be the safest option for them, now that he thought about it.
"Staggered diamond, max out your torches; I want to see everything."
The four obeyed, settling around him and covering every angle as they brought up the brightness of their rifles to maximum. The shadows receded and brought the contours of the tunnel into stark contrast with the darkness that had swallowed everything. It was almost like the porous gray rock absorbed light, refusing to let go of anything that came into contact with it.
They moved out, Emiya keeping his senses peeled and his favored pair of swords in his mind's eye. Last time something had nearly sneaked up on him, before he had noticed it. But that could have just been a trick of the shadows; the lingering alien emotions in this place fooling his mind into seeing things which weren't there.
They came to the end, right before the alien room where something had been removed.
"Nothing, sir."
He nodded, turning around.
Obviously if something had been here, then it could have escaped long ago. The batarians had not kept this place sealed up, even if they had been wary. So whatever had happened to those three must have been a local phenomenon of some sort.
Which brought an uncomfortable question to his mind...
If those three batarians had taken so poorly to being a few hours down here, what of Henell and her team who had been working down here? I've got a bad feeling about this...
;
"You have done my mistress a great favor, Shepard. Thus, she has expressed her wish for me to invite you to dine with her aboard Dreyn N'var," Shiala said with a warm smile.
Shepard blinked at the offer.
"Dinner?"
"Yes. In fact, I would be the one preparing the meal. It would be a great joy to have you aboard the ship, where we could express our gratitude."
"Is this like a... private thing, or...?" She hesitated. At the moment, it was probably better if she did not leave her cot until she was given leave to do so. Especially since she was certain some of the local brass was still be annoyed with her.
Going off on her own to have a party with the asari would ruffle all the wrong feathers, she suspected.
But it seemed that the asari had been aware of this, as Shiala shook her head. "Not to worry. Matriarch Benezia has spoken to the Admiral and I have been assured that there will be no problem. In fact, many of the officers who played a part in the battle have already accepted invites to allow us to offer our thanks."
"Huh. Yeah, that sounds great. I heard you guys had weird cooking, so I'd love to see what that's all about."
The asari had only the slightest twitch at the comment. But Shepard realized that the Matron—rather than feeling insulted—had only become determined to blow away all of Shepard's expectations now.
"I am glad and shall pass on the word to Matriarch Benezia. I am certain she will be overjoyed to meet you as well. Speaking of, do you know where we might find that man who you had been cooperating with?"
That made Shepard pause. Why were they looking for Emiya?
Perhaps sensing her confusion, Shiala continued. "We have been made aware it was the Alliance Intelligence operator's swift thinking and forethought that made possible the rescue of honored Professor Henell. Though we have expressed a desire to thank him, it seems that he is a hard man to reach."
"Right, that's... I'll pass on the offer when—if I happen to see him."
Shiala nodded, smiling beatifically. "Thank you. I shall inform Matriarch Benezia of this. A shuttle shall come for you in two hours for the dinner party."
Bowing once, she left Shepard alone once more.
Exhaling loudly, she fell back in the cot and relaxed against the pillow. She hadn't signed out yet, meaning she was still ordered to stay in bed for another hour at least. But she had been updated on how everything had gone during the operation.
The captives had been found and were in good health, if a bit scared and hungry from having to wait so long. Injuries and casualties during the initial push had been considerable, but as soon as the defenders' communication had begun to crumble, the fighting had begun to favor the Alliance. Materiel losses were considerable, but given the amount of credits that had been recovered it shouldn't be a problem.
While much of it would be given to the captives and surviving victims of the Dusk Raptors, a great deal of it would still end up effectively in the Systems Alliance's coffers after a few years.
Even so, she had received another formal warning for destruction of Navy property, along with a notice of her salary being docked until the accounts were balanced. That and there was going to be a formal investigation of some sort into her conduct during the operation, especially in relation to the mysterious AIA operative she had been in contact with the whole time.
And since they had set her out as bait for Emiya the whole time, she was sure that the AIA would have already realized that something was up. Maybe if she could find something momentous, they wouldn't realize?
She had nominally been assigned the task of investigating and compiling reports of the batarian pirates, to see whether there was any connection with Khar'shan and the seemingly independent actions of various slavers, pirates and merchants. There hadn't been much in the way of any evidence, so she had been hoping to continue digging through matters here on Torfan. But with him now in the picture and her leg broken...
"Damn it, Emiya."
"Hmm?" He asked and she jolted upright, her eyes widening as she realized he was sitting in the same spot as when she had first woken up.
"When did you get back?!"
"...Just now," he answered, only glancing at her briefly.
Where did he get the chair again?
Shepard blinked, calming down as she realized he must have simply been too preoccupied with something to realize he had practically sneaked in. She thought about asking what his plan was now, but belatedly realized after a second that he must have been winging it the whole time given that he hadn't objected at any point to her demands.
Somehow she didn't know what to think of that.
But seeing as how he was brooding now, she figured she should give him some time.
While she was at it, she might as well take a look at that damn dossier he had given her. She had heard about Redhax of course, but only really in passing. It hadn't even been relevant to her before.
Might as well finally see what all the fuss was about.
And soon she did; reading through the dossier properly was eye-opening on many regards. She had known that electronic warfare superiority and hacking were important, but this was the first time she had been confronted with just how much of a difference it could make.
She glanced at Emiya, wondering how he had been able to do all this. Could he have really learned how to do all of this in a mere five years? Of course not. He had been already doing it for five years. The marginals noted collective losses in the billions of credits as a result of his actions, showing how the economies of entire sectors had been affected over the five year period.
But she didn't see how it was possible.
If it was possible to destabilize the galaxy with just some hacking skills, then how come it had never been done until now, she wondered.
"How do you do it?"
"Regular exercise, a healthy diet and plenty of sleep," he answered promptly, but it was obvious he had no idea what she was asking.
She scoffed, more amused than annoyed by his behavior.
"You're a real role-model for kids everywhere, Emiya. But I mean all of this? How can you just... Hack things this easily?"
He looked up, inhaling slowly and she immediately spotted his tells. He doesn't want to tell me... Because it's complicated?
"You can give me a pithy one-liner answer, if you want."
Emiya made a noise of amusement, before shrugging. "Brain problem's solution, partly."
"...How much of your brain was..." She hesitated.
"Scooped out and put in a jar by the salarians? Don't really know. Never cared."
"...You never cared about your brain?"
"It's not vital, or anything," he shrugged, before smirking as he looked at her. "I mean, you go through internal organs on a pretty regular basis. Why wouldn't I?"
She scoffed, shaking her head with disbelief. "So you're like a hacker robot now?"
"More of a superhero ghost, but close enough."
Throwing up her hands, she went back to ignoring him and reading the dossier.
Reading quietly for another fifteen minutes, she finally spoke up again.
"What was this all about?" She asked, frowning at a summary of a firefight that had taken place on Illium.
"Hmm?" He looked up, eyes first darting to hers before moving to look at the datapad. It was like he could see what she was reading, even though the pad was turned away from him. "That was... Corporate espionage that ended up escalating until one of the salarian directors involved tried to send a hit-squad after the other party. He was trying to take them out because they were blackmailing him."
"Yeah, but... Why? Why did you care about this?"
"The hit-squad was planning on bombing a shuttle station and framing it as a terrorist act to take out the blackmailer. It was the only point where his security was open," he answered and then shrugged. "There would have been civilian casualties, so I intervened."
She frowned. "But how could you have possibly known?"
"I had been eyeing them for a while, based on some extranet rumors. Expected to find evidence of them cheating their workers and nothing more when I broke into their central servers, to be honest."
"Okay, I guess that makes sense? But it says here that you just sent a mail with the banking records to the local police...?"
He nodded. "Right, which snowballed when investigated and ended up burning them as a result."
"Wait, wait. How did you know that would happen?"
"The local police department's SOP was pretty predictable. There were precedents to compare with and draw conclusions, so predicting how it would play out was more or less entirely possible if I put a few hours into figuring it out before I made any moves. Big organizations like that tend to be fairly easy to analyze and predict; blue team and all that."
"...How did you even get there in time? According to this you were on the Citadel the day before. I thought you said you were on Thessia?"
"The email server is stored on the Citadel, sure. So I did both jobs essentially at once, though the other took a longer while to run its course. Piecing it together and tipping off the locals didn't even require me to leave Thessia," he shrugged, returning to his own thoughts.
So essentially, rather than a feat of hacking it was one of social engineering? He had read all the parties involved and played them out like puppets.
So Emiya had turned his habit of messing with people into full-blown puppet-mastery. But somehow, even as she could see how it all worked out and understood his reasoning, he didn't seem particularly satisfied with the result. Two police officers died during the operation to arrest those guys. But if he was on Thessia, then there was nothing he could have done about that.
"...Huh." That reminded her; Thessia. "Shiala—one of the asari commandos who was with me when we met—came by earlier."
His intent eyes returned to her, his brows slightly furrowed. He wasn't just listening now, he was suddenly very interested. Suddenly she felt curious about that. Did he and Shiala know each other? What was the nature of their relationship?
"She was asking about you, in fact," she prodded.
"...Did she now," he replied blandly. Too blandly.
Emiya really did not want to run into any of the asari, then. "Do you know her?"
He blinked, before scoffing and shaking his head. "I've met her once before in passing."
"But you're afraid of her."
"I'm more wary about who she is working for, than anything. That Matriarch—Benezia—would recognize me instantly if I get too close, helmet or no helmet. I would rather avoid that."
Shepard blinked, sitting up straight. Something about the tone of his voice told her he was actually wary of this Benezia. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "So you have some kind of history with her? If she can instantly recognize you?"
He wouldn't have... No, he absolutely would have.
"...Something like that. Nothing like what you're imagining, I'm sure," he said with an amused smirk and she realized how obvious she had been. "Sure, I may have made a pass at her, but she blew me off rather coolly. I actually feel a little bit embarrassed over letting myself get so worked up by her. Anyhow it would be better if I don't meet her at all." Then he quietly added to himself. "Not after what I did to her wife and daughter, anyhow."
She paused, her expression strained. "...After you did what to whom?"
He blinked, sitting up straight as he realized he had said that last bit out aloud. He cleared his throat. "Never mind that. We still need to talk about what happens now."
Shepard paused, biting the inside of her cheek. On the one hand, she wasn't finished with this. But on the other hand he was right. They did need to discuss thesituation they were in right now.
Sighing, she nodded.
"Yeah... You're not going to turn yourself in, are you?" She asked.
He didn't so much hesitate, as consider his words for a moment. Was he trying to weigh how she would react to what he had to say? "There doesn't seem to be any reason to. There are still things I need to do."
"You know, I should be placing you under arrest right now. Your circumstances being what they were five years ago, maybe it was fine? I don't know, to be honest. That's for the legal team to figure out. But saying that you don't care about going back is actually something completely different. It changes everything."
"And are you?" He asked, raising a lone brow at her.
Grabbing the datapad she waved it at him. "Right. And have you pull another fast one with millions of credits in damages in the process? Thanks, but if we can just not do that, that would be great."
He huffed, obviously amused. Whether it was due to her or the fact that someone was seemingly not shooting from the hip at the first sight of him in a long while, she wasn't sure. Probably both.
"I'm still going to have to talk to my Alliance Intelligence contact about this. I'm sort of a... contractor, I suppose? I do fieldwork for them and they give me answers I wouldn't normally get. So while I technically had the pull to keep your identity a secret from the Major..."
"You're still going to have to tell your contact what actually happened once you report in. That's fine," he said with a nod. "The bigger problem really is how this whole debacle will appear to outsiders."
"Can't you just hide? 'Deny, deny, deny' usually works, doesn't it?" She proposed.
"The two asari commandos with you saw me, it's a little bit too late for that." Emiya sighed, shaking his head. "Besides, there's more. I came here on a corvette that's—How do I put this... A little hot right now?"
"...How hot, exactly?" She didn't like the sound of this. But it was just a corvette, right? Something like that shouldn't be too big of a deal. Something like a frigate would actually be a huge deal, but a lone pilot could probably steal a corvette easily enough. How did he get past the Alliance warships blocking off the Mass Relay, anyhow?
"It's the personal starship of a Spectre who died while trying to catch me. Antimatter reaction engine."
She paused, inhaling slowly. "Oh yeah, that's hot."
"You didn't actually read the dossier all the way to the end, did you?" he sighed.
"I skimmed it; there's a lot of stuff here," she weakly protested.
He stood up, shaking his head once. "Fine. Fine. It doesn't matter. I need to go investigate something else right now. We'll... Talk later?"
"Yeah, so don't go skipping town just yet."
"Aye, aye, ma'am," he nodded and waved his hand lazily as he left.
Well, she had to prepare for the dinner party now. Too bad Emiya wasn't coming along. Maybe that's for the better. This way I can ask them about him.
;
Henell was being kept in isolation aboard the Dreyn N'var.
Her and her whole team.
Something was wrong. He could feel it. The Alliance team that had boarded the starship and secured the missing Dretirop archaeologists hadn't reported anything unusual. But the asari had moved out to immediately receive them, and after that there hadn't been a peep out of them.
He had tried to find Henell or any of the other formerly-missing asari onboard the cruiser, but with little luck. Perhaps it was simply because of how large the asari starship was.
Which meant that he needed to get there himself. Even without astralization he still had the cloak and his hacking, which meant that infiltration shouldn't be a problem as long as he could just get aboard the Dreyn N'var. Normally that would be a problem...
"Welcome aboard, gentlemen. Right this way, please," an asari commando wearing a slinky dress spoke, addressing the shuttle's passengers.
"Oh my, of course. Of course..."
Emiya ignored the Systems Alliance officers stepping out of the shuttle, moving around the unarmed commandos as he stepped aboard the asari cruiser for the second time. Hidden beneath his cloaking, no one noticed him as he kept his presence bland and shallow.
Behind him the shuttle rose up and moved to give way to the next entourage of Alliance personnel, as Benezia had apparently seen fit to invite half the command structure aboard for the dinner party.
Slinking out of the hangar unnoticed, he continued along the passages until he found an unremarkable corner without surveillance coverage. There he turned off the cloak and revealed himself. Once again disguised, he exhaled and looked down at the magnificent pair of breasts jutting out of his chest.
At a distance he might fool the asari with this, but up close anyone would realize that he was far too large to be an asari. Hopefully that wasn't going to be a problem.
With most of the asari cruiser's personnel focused on the dinner party Benezia was throwing, sneaking around was proving to be quite easy. He ran into no one, even as he checked through fourteen possible locations for where Henell could have been in five minutes. All the while he kept the cameras and door security spoofed, ensuring that no one should be aware of his presence.
Even so, he detected some of those strange light balls in the system. Similar to the ones he had found on the STG vessel. What are these things even?
Earmarking the matter, he made doubly sure to hide his activities from them as well.
Coming to the twenty-third location without direct surveillance that would allow him to simply write it off, he mentally overrode the door controls. It was a guest suite, with all the luxuries that entailed. He wasn't expecting much as he leaned his head in through the door to look inside quickly, already mentally prepared to move on to the next location.
"Who is it?" An Asari Matriarch asked, her face set with deep haggardness. As if she had not been sleeping well in a long while, even though her immediate appearance spoke of well-being. She was wearing only a thin robe with an open front, having most likely been resting after a bath.
Emiya paused, recognizing the voice and face immediately.
Nirida Henell. Hale and healthy, in the flesh. She blinked at him, frowning and noticeably wary at his presence. Alright, how should I handle this...?
"Who are you? You aren't a part of the crew," she said with a wary certainty as she stood up, placing aside the datapad she had been holding. He hadn't actually expected her to be completely fine, given how thoroughly she had been sequestered away by Benezia. Yet here she was.
Clearing his throat, he spoke. "I apologize for barging in like this, professor Henell."
She blinked, obviously perturbed by his voice not at all matching his appearance. He had forgotten to modulate his voice, not that it really mattered since he was suspicious anyhow.
"You are that man who left all of Thessia in a tizzy, aren't you? Saiga, was it?"
She's sharp.
He nodded, dispelling his layered disguises and leaving him in his usual full-body diamene weave armor. "That's right. I am something of an... acquaintance of Baliya's. I had hoped to meet you for a while now. May I come in?"
"...It would appear that you have not been informed. That is certainly peculiar. Or are you perhaps lying?" The Matriarch said, drawing to her full height as she stood up square against him. "But very well. No reason for you to stand there in the doorway, come in and close the door. No reason to let the incense go to waste..."
Emiya blinked. She certainly was casual and relaxed. But what had she been talking about there...?
"Baliya Haphia is dead."
He froze in mid-step.
"...You did not know, then. Hmm," she narrowed her eyes at him, moving to lounge by a settee.
Baliya is dead? How...? No, it doesn't matter. It's... It was...
"She appears to have died painlessly. Natural causes. Or so I was told."
"I see," he exhaled and closed his eyes. It didn't matter. "My condolences."
Henell paused, having reached out for her glass. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. "Thank you. But you speak as if you were not close to her."
"...I cannot say I was anything more than a passing acquaintance. Especially if I hadn't even heard of her passing until now."
The Matriarch's expression softened, the lines of her almost jagged mien turning almost pleasant for a moment.
"I see. No wonder she wouldn't stop writing about you. You certainly are everything she said you would be."
Emiya didn't know what to make of that, merely frowning quietly.
"But it does not matter. Why have you come here? Given your rather perilous status at the moment, I would have thought you would have more pressing matters to consider," she crossed her legs slowly, the hem of the robe spilling aside to reveal long, firmly toned limbs. "Not that I am not flattered. But I do not take little Benezia's sloppy seconds."
He cleared his throat, ignoring the barb and show of skin. The woman was trying to play him. "I've been attending Serrice University for a handful of years now, studying the Protheans. I had hoped to attend some of your classes, and to discuss some thoughts I had regarding them."
"The minimum attendance requirements for my courses are 25000 hours of coursework performed. I doubt you would have achieved even half of that in a mere five years. I don't make exceptions, not even for my friends."
"I had 20000 hours performed, as far as credits were concerned. Of course, that doesn't matter any more given that I have likely been all but expelled already. But I had been hoping to still discuss matters with you," he said patiently.
"Hmm, I see."
Emiya waited, seeing as how she had not given him anything more to latch onto. He would have to wait and see what she thought of what he had said so far.
Looking around, he took in the details of the suite he had entered. Beyond the dimensions and exits he had already taken in before he had even walked in, it was quite fancy. A real luxury suite of the highest order. It would have certainly been a change from the Dretirop camp and the batarian's holding facilities.
"I refuse."
He inhaled, not reacting otherwise. "May I hear your reasons?"
"Oh, certainly you may," she said with her voice dripping contempt. "Before her death Baliya had apparently begun to support some fringe theories. Lunacies which have all but disgraced her entire legacy, given her untimely death. Hundreds of years of work; thousands of discoveries and tens of thousands of priceless artifacts analyzed... All that, washed away because of you."
"Me?" He blinked, his brows furrowing.
"I've no idea what nonsense you planted in her ears and how you managed to convince her of its authenticity... But I'll have nothing to do with it," she sniffed, looking back up at him. "Will that be all?"
She's certainly a tough old lady, I'll give her that. But he wasn't quite satisfied with this much. Though the problem still remained, what did he want from her? If she wouldn't share her knowledge with him, then what?
It wasn't like he could forcibly meld with her—Or well, I suppose a tantric ritual could work for that... But that's not an option.
Emiya sighed, nodding. He supposed he would have be content with knowing that she had been saved, even if she wished to have nothing to do with him. "Alright. Apologies for barging in and disturbing you. And... thank you for telling me about Baliya."
Henell's eyes only narrowed slightly as she said nothing.
He moved to turn around, intent on leaving the starship, already plotting his method of exfiltration. But then a thought occurred to him; he had almost forgotten.
"One more question, if you don't mind."
She said nothing, crossing her arms and inhaling slowly to show her growing impatience.
"What was being stored in that room at the end of the lowest floor, on Torfan?"
Immediately Henell's entire body language changed. She sat up straight, her eyes narrowing at him as he could sense the biotic build up. She was gearing up for a fight, even as she questioned his words. "What are you talking about? There was never anything there."
Emiya frowned. That's a damned lie.
"You're lying."
She stood up, ram-rod straight with her hands balled into fists now as she exhaled loudly, agitation obvious.
"What was down there? Why did the batarians fear to go down there? What was that murderous shadow lurking just beyond your sight?"
"You know," she seethed.
And he pressed on. "Answer me. What was in that room? What did you remove?"
She inhaled slowly, unballing her fists as she relaxed and stood up straight. All the tension bled out of her body, and she opened her eyes to behold him with clear eyes.
"The cycle must not be broken."
;
It really was good.
Shepard's mouth watered as she thought about another morsel. It was good. It was really good. Maybe even better than—No, I'm sure he could do better.
Shaking her head, she turned to look away from the sashaying Shiala clad in shimmering silks. Most of her male fellow officers couldn't even manage that much. There was just something enrapturing about that dance, something that inflamed all of one's desires all at once.
She looked around, noting who was present once more. Major Kyle wasn't present, but General Maeda had seen fit to attend. She still didn't like the man, but Emiya had been right all along; the General took care of his own. And he valued relations between humanity and the asari greatly.
It was little wonder he was here. She just hoped her presence wouldn't sour his evening.
"I trust everything is to your liking, Lieutenant Jane Shepard?"
She almost bolted upright at the vocal silk tickling her ears. Turning around, she came face to face with a seated and smiling asari. Blinking twice, she cleared her throat. "Uh, yes?"
The asari smiled, inclining her head gently.
"I am glad. I am Benezia; a humble spiritual guide among asari."
Shepard blinked, realization slowly dawning on her as to who the Matriarch before her was. Shiala's and Tryna's boss. Anatha's boss.
"Uh, yes?"
She realized she was utterly flabbergasted and cleared her throat again, looking away as she focused on slow breathing. Failing that, she lowered a hand beneath the table down to one of her legs. Wearing the uniform dress, the brace she was wearing that kept her leg stiff and healing couldn't be seen unless one knew what to look for.
Smiling, she jabbed a finger right into that leg and kept from reacting as the lance of pain shot through her entire nervous system. Extending a hand, she tried again. "Jane Shepard, but you already knew that, huh. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," Benezia replied, accepting the hand with one of her own as they shook hands. Just like Major Kyle said; don't worry about customs. Let them handle it, it's a show of trust and respect to do so.
"So, I heard you were looking for Fujimura Saiga," Shepard said and for just a moment the Matriarch stilled entirely. Touch and point. "What a coincidence; as it happens so am I. Let's exchange notes, yeah?"
"Very well. Do you mind if we exchange questions?" Benezia agreed, recovering quickly. "That would seem the simplest manner for an equitable exchange, no?"
"Sure that's fine, you go first."
The asari elder nodded with a smile, accepting the gesture. "Are you hiding him?"
"No," Shepard immediately shot back without hesitation. He was doing that all by himself. "What makes you think that?"
Benezia paused, both to weigh the answer and to allow Shepard to consider her own question. Did she really wish to ask that, when they would exchange a question for a question? But seeing that Shepard had no intention of changing her mind, Benezia spoke.
"He has been on Nirida Henell's trail for weeks now. Given that he was seen down on Torfan, it would suggest that he still has something he wishes with her. Do you know where he is?"
Shepard made a thoughtful noise, saying nothing. Benezia waited for a moment, before finally sighing. "We also discovered a strange weapon on Torfan. One, which upon closer inspection is human in origin. Something you humans call a 'bow', I believe? Some of the wounds on the slain batarians here match some of the wounds we found on slain batarians on Dretirop, where Henell had last been before her kidnapping. Do you know where he is?"
Humming thoughtfully, Shepard remained quiet. Because that still wasn't the reason Benezia had asked that question, and they both knew it.
"...And his sudden disappearance after he ran into you—a noted friend of his from his youth—is certainly peculiar," the Matriarch finally revealed, putting her suspicions out in the open.
"I have no idea where he is. Probably somewhere on Torfan," Shepard shrugged, speaking truthfully. "What does he want with Hen—Actually, what does he want with the Protheans?"
"...I do not know. What does he want with the Protheans?"
Shepard shrugged, having no more idea than Benezia had.
"Actually, may I rescind that last one. Consider it a rhetorical slip, perhaps?" Receiving a nod in reply, the Matriarch smiled. "Thank you, I shall owe you a favor. Well then, what do you believe he wants with the Protheans?"
Inhaling slowly, Shepard considered that. "Honestly, with him it could be anything. But probably..."
"Probably?"
She looked up and met eyes with the Matriarch. "It's something huge."
"...I see," Benezia replied and they sat quietly for a moment. After a moment, she cleared her throat. "I believe it is your turn, Lieutenant."
"Right..." Shepard mused.
A servant-asari, carrying a sapphire-silver pitcher walked up to them, moving to pour more drink for both. But as she did, Shepard caught her whispering something to the Matriarch. It wasn't much, but she certainly caught the word "intruder" there.
Benezia turned to face her, giving her an apologetic smile as she rose out of her seat. "Excuse me, Lieutenant. It would seem this will have to wait."
"Sure, I'll be here," Shepard gave her a thumbs up.
But as the Matriarch walked away, her expression fell away. What the hell is Emiya doing now...? Seeing that Shiala was finally slowing down, she cleared her throat to catch the Matron's attention.
"Hello Shepard. I trust I have managed to satisfy you."
She grinned back. "Oh, definitely. It seems like things are winding down. Want to go take a break with me? I was hoping to find the ladies' room and, ah, powder my nose a little."
The flushed and smiling Shiala tittered, nodding.
"Follow me, Shepard."
;
Emiya ran.
Something had taken over Henell.
Was it the same influence guiding her sudden silent murderous intent that had caused those three batarians to die? He had tried closing in and knocking her out at first, but with her biotics capable of covering the volume of her suite, it did not matter how fast and strong he was. He had nearly been caught, just as he had been back at the museum, by her mass effect fields. Standing his ground wasn't an option; not so deep in what was effectively hostile territory.
So he had turned and made a run for it. Best to let things cool down and see what happened. And then once she calmed down, he could try and observe her more closely. If the trigger was related to whatever was stored at the bottom of the shaft, then is she protecting it?
There was something rotten here. That something he had first sensed when he had landed at the bottom of the dark, yawning abyss of an elevator shaft.
Duck. He rolled on the floor, kicking off to the left as a biotic throw went flying past him and impacted against the hallway wall. Just as her quarters had been, the hallways of the cruiser weren't large enough for him to properly leverage his advantages over Henell. This really isn't the place to be tussling with a biotic...
"It's obvious you aren't going to catch me, so how about we just part ways here?" He asked, turning around to run fifteen steps backwards so he could look at her.
His only reply was a biotic singularity that would have caught him in its event horizon, if it weren't for him kicking off the wall and performing a back-flip over it. Behind him Nirida Henell ground to a halt as she could not pass by the singularity with similar ease, even though she possessed the ability to keep up with him here.
In the relatively short and narrow hallways of the Dreyn N'var, she could always catch up by Charging and Blinking in straight lines to catch up. Despite his overwhelming physical advantage, he couldn't run away, nor could he close in and take her out. Not with the staggering biotic fields she had layered over herself.
No wonder Matriarchs are considered to be in a class all their own... He mused, turning another corner by kicking off the wall.
Trying to close in would only result in him getting caught up and lifted off the ground. Unlike the museum, the ceilings weren't high enough to permit him to use his speed to his advantage either; she could cover the entire space with her fields with ease. And since he couldn't outrun her and his cloaking gave him no method of evading her biotics, his options were limited to say the least...
That left wearing her down—which would take time and make noise—and escaping—a much simpler affair, he figured. Thus he had chosen the better part of valor and decided to hightail it before things escalated out of control. And even with his attempts at shutting down alarms, it seemed like somehow fights were breaking out in other parts of the Dreyn N'var and the asari were being roused to the trouble.
Thus he had made an effort to steer clear of the more populated sections of the cruiser, like the dining halls and the crew quarters. But that had also taken him further away from any emergency escape pods or the hangar bay. I need to break line of sight, get cloaked and then let the situation calm down first.
Which meant he needed to trip up the suddenly mute Matriarch to create some space for himself.
"No? Alright fine," he called out as he grabbed a potted purple plant of some kind and chucked it at Henell.
She hadn't said a word since this had all started, and didn't say anything now as she shaped her biotic fold-fields into a funnel before her, stretching out from her fingertips.
Oh, great. She's played biotiball! He groused as he prepared himself.
The potted plant barreled towards her, but gently she received it and almost like an orbiting body accelerating out of a planet's gravity well, she spun it behind her back and sent it flying back towards Emiya at more than ten times the speed it had started with.
But he had been ready, setting his feet and mimicking her stance as he angled his palm to receive the potted plant. And then, he spun around on his foot, using his entire body as an axis to replicate the biotiball orbital pass without any biotics. She had barely time to take another step, when the potted plant smashed into her abdomen and knocked her ass over kettle.
He grimaced, but did not slow down. The pot had been lightened to a minimal fraction of its original mass, by the Matriarch. It would be more like being hit by a beach ball than a cannonball despite the velocity; she would be fine, he told himself. But there was more; two presences, just up ahead. If they get caught up in this...
Emiya would have get them out of the way. Knock them out? Or could he pretend to be one of the visiting Systems Alliance officers? With so little time to invent a cover story, he sighed and figured that it didn't matter—Anything will do. Rounding another corner in the hallway, he came face to face with two Matrons. He immediately recognized them as members of the Dretirop contingent. "Hey, professor Henell—"
"The cycle must not be broken."
"The cycle must not be broken."
Oh god damn it, he complained as he felt their biotics rousing. But neither of them was a Matriarch or a commando; so he easily dove right past them, placing a hand on the back of their necks each. "Oh, stuff it already."
They collapsed like a pair of puppets with their strings cut, and he hastened to grab a hold of them so they did not fall. As a result, their shapely bodies pressed up against him, looking as if they had embraced him if one were to take the situation in at a glance.
Which was exactly what Matriarch Benezia's pinched expression seemed to suggest she thought he was doing, as he noticed her standing at the other side of the hallway. Had she seen the whole thing, or had she just arrived? What was she even doing here? Did she come to check up on Henell? I thought I had suppressed the alarms and spoofed the cameras.
The two asari bodies pressing against him entered his consciousness, and he rolled his eyes. Of course. If Henell wasn't the only one who had suddenly gone out of control, and he hadn't suppressed any other alerts, that meant she must have come to investigate it herself. Eyeing her up and down, he noted the lack of any weapons or protective gear. That didn't mean much, however.
Asari Matriarch, he reminded himself.
He licked his lips, raising a hand as much as the shapely asari matron pressing down on his arm allowed to greet the Matriarch. "Hey, it seems like they've had a little bit too much to drink..."
Right, I'm not wearing any disguise or even a helmet.
Benezia wasn't buying it.
And just then Henell came running down the way he had just come, pincering him in between the two Matriarchs. Worst of all, the professor had torn off her night robe leaving her only wearing a purplish, see-through negligee of sorts. Combined with her panting and the bits of dirt from the potted plant, it wasn't a very good look.
"Uh, I can explain...?"
"Professor Henell...?" Benezia asked, clearly getting overwhelmed by the situation.
A chill ran down Emiya's spine and he jumped, twisting in the air and kicking off the ceiling with both of the Matrons still in his arms as a biotic warp field ravaged the spot he had been standing in a moment before. As a Pull & Throw-combo followed, he kicked off the wall before he had even hit the ground to dodge that as well.
Landing him precisely next to Benezia, whose wide eyes found his as he turned to face her. A Matriarch she may be, but this was far beyond anything she had ever seen. He could see the metaphorical gears turning in her head, as she realized she needed to do something, as she was about to kick down into fight-mode.
So he tossed both of the Matrons at her. "Here you go."
And then turned tail and sprinted away, leaving all four behind him.
"H-hey! Wait, you!"
But he ignored her, already thirty meters away and beyond any of their biotic range. Turning another corner and finally starting to mentally plot his path, he figured it was time to head for the hangar bay and make his exit. Or maybe cloak and hide until things had cooled down, only leaving then?
It would allow him to keep an eye on things—
Emiya halted, frowning.
The biotic fields behind him had intensified, and were remaining mostly stationary in relation to him. They're not coming after me?
Rather, they were fighting...?
"That doesn't make any sense."
Not unless...
"It's a berserker-state. Like the three batarians. I thought she was fine because she was lucid, but..."
Apparently he had been wrong.
Turning around, he scowled. "This is a fine mess I've managed to stir up, huh."
Returning to where he had left the four, he found Benezia and Henell engaged in a pitched battle with the two unconscious Matrons lying on the floor. The Matriarchs were evenly matched, even if Benezia was not attacking at all.
"Professor! What is the meaning of this!?" The Matriarchs were matching one another move by move, yet the difference in intent between the two was obvious. "Please calm yourself, Nirida!"
But the stalemate wouldn't last. Not if the other Dretirop asari were all affected in a similar manner by Torfan. The two on the ground might wake up any minute, or others might come to take out Benezia. Or are they making trouble elsewhere on the cruiser?
It didn't matter.
"—Trace, on"—begin projection,
His bow materialized in his hand, as mentally he noted a double-instance had occurred. Dispelling the other bow to ensure the one in his hand was the only one, he raised it up and fingered the string.
Four hollow, blunt-tipped collapsible arrows were loosed in an instant.
Two hit the opposite walls, one the ceiling and one the floor, all flying past Benezia and aimed straight for Henell. Ricocheting off the hard surfaces, their flight path would have been impossible to follow all at once with just eyes. But for the Matriarchs who clad themselves in their biotic fields to sense everything around them, it wasn't a problem.
Henell swiped aside two of them, let a third fly past her harmlessly and caught the fourth, intent on orbital passing it right back at either him or Benezia. As if!
The arrows were all dispelled, creating a moment's opening as the professor lost what she had been focusing on. In that moment, Emiya had closed in and was binding the hands and legs of the two still-unconscious Matrons with projected zip-ties.
"You...!"
"Eyes front," Emiya chided Benezia, "she's still trying to kill you."
"And whose fault is that...!?"
"Definitely not mine, I didn't even talk to those two before they decided to try and kill me too," he defended himself.
"Those two?" Benezia blinked, almost missing a Shockwave the other Matriarch launched their way.
"The short of it is this; there's something going on down in Torfan. Three batarians went crazy and ate each other alive before bashing their heads on rocks down there. The Dretirop contingent would have spent way longer down there than those batarians, so something is definitely wrong with them!"
She hesitated, not certain what to believe. "But there was nothing wrong with her before now...!"
"Right, I thought that too," Emiya said and looked at Henell who was panting now. "Professor, what was in that room, at the lowest floor? It wasn't Prothean in origin, so what was it?"
"The cycle must not be broken."
Benezia flinched at that, taking a step back at the sheer coldness in Henell's voice.
"There you go, I've no idea what that's all about."
"...I see. Very well, let us take her down. Can you do to her what you did to those two?" Benezia asked, squaring up as her fighting spirit flared.
He nodded. "If I can get close enough. It's a bit difficult with how constrained we are here, but if I wear her defenses down and you give a push, I can do it."
"...I see that you have recovered your bow. Very well, let us do that!"
"Haaah!" He released sixteen hollow, blunt-tipped collapsible arrows in one long stream straight at Henell. She raised a biotic barrier and with a wave of her hand pushed for the arrows' mass to increase too much for them to continue flight.
But.
"Too bad—that was the feint!" He called out as he loosed one more arrow just as he sensed the field ebbing away.
Riding in the end of the effort, with her unable to raise her field quickly enough to stop it, she twisted out of the way. It barely missed her, assisted by the re-directing biotic field around her body. Like that Justicar in the museum!
Only a direct hit would go through.
Not that he needed one.
"Do not forget about me!" Benezia called, lashing out with a truly monstrous wave of biotic force as she cast a Stasis field on Henell, made only possible by his covering for her. He had intended on wearing Henell down, until she was too physically exhausted to continue, playing it safe. But with Benezia matching and stalemating her fellow Matriarch's biotics, there was no need for such a long stratagem.
Emiya dashed forward like a loosed arrow, crossing the distance in a heartbeat, just as the Stasis was broken from the inside by an equally staggering effort of biotic force.
Henell moved to swat him down, the fields building up as her eyes honed in on him. But it was too late; he kicked off the ceiling and vanished from her sight, appearing behind her. "Time for your nap, grandma."
The hand placed on the back of her neck made her jolt, her eyes shooting wide open, before she collapsed like the two Matrons had before her.
Emiya exhaled, catching the Matriarch gently before she hit the floor as he had dispelled his bow. Looking up, his eyes met with Benezia's and they both tensed minutely. Without a common foe...
The silence stretched on for a minute, until he spoke. "I've informed your security personnel to apprehend the Dretirop contingent. It seems like they were all affected."
The Matriarch blinked, before letting out a shuddering breath and raising a hand to her brow.
"Are the guests undisturbed?"
He nodded once. The Alliance personnel had not been disturbed.
"That is good. For now... I suppose I should thank you."
Emiya blinked, tilting his head at that. His honest at-a-loss reaction made his elder smile. "For Liara and Aethyta, I mean. I do not know what truly happened on Thessia, nor do I know whether it was your intention to safeguard or bring harm to them... But they have both come through alive, despite the great danger they were in. For that at least, I am grateful."
She inclined her head gently.
But he could only shake away that undeserved sentiment.
"Your thanks are misplaced—nearly all of the danger they were in was due to my presence there. I should be apologizing, but I suspect neither of them would accept even that much from me."
"...I see that your appearance is not all that has changed since we last met, Saiga. Or do you go by another name these days? I have come to learn that name to have been a mere disguise."
"...Emiya is probably simplest," he replied.
She nodded, quietly muttering the name once under her breath to memorize it. "Emiya it is then. Do you mind taking another one? I am afraid carrying one unconscious Matron is my limit."
He nodded, hoisting up Henell over one shoulder as he walked towards the other two archaeologists. Crouching down and snaking an arm around the mid-section of another, he nodded his thanks as Benezia helped support the Matrons head until she was securely on his free shoulder.
With that done, she with obvious experience grabbed and hoisted up the last unconscious asari over her shoulders in a manner that spoke of having done so many times before. That she must have been a commando at some point or another shouldn't come as a surprise...
"...Where are we taking them?"
"You mean to tell me that you have subverted the communications and security systems of my vessel without anyone but I noticing... But you do not know where the brig is?" Benezia asked, curious amusement bleeding through her stern visage.
He hadn't been sure if she would really want to throw her recently-rescued VIPs behind bars, but... "The brig it is."
;
"Thank you, Shepard. I do not know what I would have done without you..." Shiala sighed, having finally managed to wrestle down the flailing asari.
Some meters away, Shepard shrugged.
"I didn't do much; I just saw someone suspicious. Sorry I can't be of more help. But you know, my leg..."
"No, no. I understand completely and I must apologize for this..."
"No, I mean it's fine. I get it, sorry to be in the way when something's obviously happening and—Oh, she's trying to go for your leg there."
Shiala grunted, flipping the struggling asari around as she got a proper arm-lock on her to pin her against the floor. All the while, biotics sparked as the two wrestling asari tried to leverage their own abilities to gain an advantage. The Matron who had been trying to sneak into the armory was older, but Shiala was in much better shape and had more experience with unarmed fighting. Biotic or otherwise.
"You know what, let me just grab one side of her and this should be a lot easier..." Shepard finally said after another half minute of struggling.
Before Shiala could refuse and assure her it was fine, the N7 had already crouched down to press one of her knees into the Matron's buttock, pinning her down with most of her body-weight against the muscle.
"Just grab her other arm and we can carry her."
The commando chef did not argue and soon they had the Matron in a handy carry. With both holding one of the arms pinned behind her back and grabbing onto a shoulder and leg each, the struggling asari could only wriggle helplessly as she was womanhandled. Heh, it's almost like we're holding a battering ram.
"Thank you," Shiala said again, panting with exhaustion. "She just doesn't stop, even when I try to leverage a joint-lock..."
"Maybe she's on something? Druggies tend to not feel any pain..." Shepard suggested.
"Perhaps... Nevertheless it is strange. Come, this way."
They carried the still combative Matron down the hallway, entering a lift and nodding at other asari who gave them a wide berth and curious looks as they passed by. Every step was more painful than the last as Shepard could feel her leg brace slipping and her broke bones grinding. Still, she managed to handle it the whole way until they made it to the brig.
Where she almost promptly dropped the asari from sheer surprise.
Emiya and Benezia turned as one to regard her.
A second passed, and then they stared at one another. And then back at her. All three hastily piecing together what was going on and trying to put together their stories.
"Good party?" He asked, his flippant humor getting a chortle out of Shepard.
She threw back an equally flippant thumbs up. "Great food. You were right, Shiala is a hell of a cook."
"Huh?" The commando chef in question blinked, only now noticing Emiya standing next to her boss. "...Matriarch Benezia, that is—!"
"Yes, thank you Shiala. It is alright for the moment. Please place professor T'rehi in the holding cell and make sure to bind her arms before you administer the tranquilizer."
"Ah, uhh... Yes, of course, at once."
Another commando, fully suited and armed, came to take Shepard's place and she gladly gave it away as she exhaled. Cold sweat and nausea assailed her as she finally relaxed. Her leg really had not liked that.
Emiya frowned at her, worry apparent.
But as he realized Benezia was staring at him, he wiped his expression to a complete blank. This is such a mess...
"Then am I to take it that you are working for the Systems Alliance?" Benezia asked, breaking the silence.
"No," he immediately shot back.
"Yes," she shot immediately back.
They both paused, glaring at one another.
"No, I am not."
"Yes, he is."
"Ah, shall I leave you two to sort matters out for a moment?" Benezia queried with an amused smile.
"No, that's fine. Your huntresses can confirm that I've nothing to do with the Alliance. Shepard is just an old acquaintance, that's all."
"Nuh uh, ask Anatha! He's with the Alliance Intelligence Agency—"
"Ignore her, she's had a trying time recently. I may have hit her on the head a few times too many," Emiya interrupted her, throwing an arm around her shoulders and a palm over her mouth to keep her from talking. She tried to wrest away the limb, but found it as solid as steel. So she bit him instead, but he didn't so much as twitch.
"I see. So he wishes to protect you by distancing himself from the Alliance to minimize the possible political fallout, while at the same time she wishes to protect you with the clout of the Systems Alliance," Benezia said, giving the two alternating glances as she spoke.
Emiya glanced at her, clearing his throat even as Shepard tried to grind her canines into his glove-covered hand to little effect.
"Then the only way forward in this situation... Is for you to silence all of us, is it not?" She was now smiling dangerously at the carefully stolid Emiya. "But you've no intention of harming any of us. Fufufufu... Now I see why matters at Thessia played out as they had. You are that kind of man, after all." The Matriarch smiled, cheer obvious as she raised a hand to her chin in a gesture of deep thought. "Then, it would appear that I have excellent blackmail material as far as the both of you are concerned."
What.
"For as it happens, that while I do think that Emiya's actions have been rather extreme, I do not particularly believe him to be a threat, as such. Be it to Thessia, asarikind, humanity, the Alliance or the Citadel, strangely enough. Would I be correct in that assumption, Emiya?"
He exhaled, narrowing his eyes at the Matriarch. Finally, he sighed and removed his hand. Well, tried to anyhow as the canines had really dug in and even as he tried he couldn't pull his hand back until she opened her jaws. Wiping at her mouth, Shepard scowled at him. But he studiously ignored her glare as he nodded at Benezia.
"...What do you have in mind?"
"I have recently been courting a certain individual, probing him so to speak. But he has been rather reticent to accept my advances, in all their forms. A rather troubling affair, and one upon which's success much may well rest," Benezia explained. "That is, until he approached me on the subject of locating and returning professor Nirida Henell. He—let us call him... Mister A for simplicity's sake—has a keen interest in the past, including all things Prothean, you understand."
"So... He's like a big-shot with a weird hobby, of some kind?" Shepard asked.
"...I am afraid not. Though our interactions have only been shallow and short, I sense a deep desperation and desire in his actions. I am convinced that he believes the matter to be of the greatest importance."
Emiya sighed, raising a hand to rub his brows.
"And a concern I believe our mutual friend here shares. As you said, 'something huge', no?" Benezia nodded to Emiya as she locked eyes with Shepard.
She nodded, frowning as she glanced at the locked up asari in the brig and then at Emiya.
"Yes. As you can see, there does seem to be something rather peculiar afoot. He assures me that he has done nothing to professor Henell et al., yet their behavior is most troubling."
"Okay... So, if Emiya helps you out and explains what he knows—" Shepard began, kicking at him with her good leg as he was about to interrupt her. She could tell he was about to give some stupid objection, thus made sure to scowl at him hard enough to shut him down. "Like I was saying, Emiya helps you out and you promise not to blow his cover here. It's just your people who should know what's going on, right? You haven't told any of the Alliance brass?"
Benezia smiled, nodding once. "There is more value to information that is only known to a few, after all."
Shepard grinned. "That seems like a fair deal, eh?"
"Don't I get a say in this?" He groused, scowling with his arms crossed.
"Do you wish to refuse?" Benezia asked as the both of them raised a questioning brow in tandem at him.
"...No," he finally said, through a sulking frown.
"Great! Shake hands on it then," Shepard grinned.
Emiya and Benezia blinked at her, before looking at each other for a second. Then with a mutual shrug they extended a hand and shook on the matter.
"Matriarch Benezia," one of the commandos who had been keeping a wary eye on Emiya by the side approached. As the eldest asari present acknowledged her, she bowed lightly and continued. "All but one of the professors have been detained. But she is being chased down as we speak, it is only a matter of time now. Those who we have found are all unharmed and have been sedated and secured."
Benezia sighed and then after a second nodded. "Good. Find the last missing professor. Have the human guests become aware of anything unusual going on?"
The commando shook her head. "No Matriarch, they appear to have not."
Benezia nodded, turning to face Emiya and Shepard once more. "Apologies, I shall have to leave for a moment and end the night's official matters with the Alliance officers. If you would follow Y'lana, then we may convene to discuss matters properly once I have brought the festivities to an end."
"Huh...?" Shepard blinked, only to realize she hadn't meant to object. But as Benezia raised a brow at her, she cleared her throat. "I was uh... Hoping to eat a little bit more still."
Emiya scoffed beside her and she felt her face pink a touch.
"I see, then..." Benezia smiled widely, turning to look directly at Emiya. "I do believe I was promised a 'more private dinner' last we met? Shall we convene at my private quarters then?"
Shepard's eyes shot to Emiya, suspicion shining as she stared at him. Yet, he didn't back down, instead crossing his arms as he smirked. "That's fine—It's about time I got a swing at you. I just have two conditions."
"Oh? Name them then."
"Have the chef of that time—Shiala, was it?—be present there as well." He grinned, revealing teeth as she realized he had been waiting for this. "I've no intention of cooking if my opponent won't be there to witness it."
Benezia returned a smile just as toothy and flaring with fighting spirit. "Oh my. Of course, of course. And the second thing?"
"That rifle," he said pointing at the commando who blinked at being singled out. "I'll need to borrow it."
"Unexpected, but why not. Y'lana."
The asari grimaced, but at the behest of her Matriarch obeyed.
"Good. Prepare to be blown away, because I'm going to go all out on this," Emiya proclaimed, his confident smirk never so much as having wavered
;
War is the essence of cooking.
The rifle he had procured lay in a hundred and thirty-six pieces before him on the table he had requested be brought in. He would need it if he wished to match up to Shiala's biotic cooking, much less surpass it. Preparation and planning are the key to success in all things.
Including making food.
Dipping a finger in the spice-bowl filled with freshly ground herbs and roots, he nodded at the taste. It was a close enough approximation that he could use it. By the chair on the other side of the table, Shepard was curiously looking by while his enemy sat with her arms crossed. The Matron was trying not to stare, as she was noticeably uncomfortable with his presence. Good, that means I already have the advantage.
"Did you use your fabricator to make all of that just now?" Shepard asked, staring at the wide array of pans, pots, cutting boards, knives and many, many other instruments between them on the table.
He nodded. "Of course. The asari believe they have no need for these things, after all."
Shiala twitched at that comment. She must have heard him, but did not know what he meant. That was fine.
Seduction is the essence of cooking. Mystery was the first step to raising interest.
He had already determined how to approach this battle long before now. His first true biotic cooking experience had been extremely enlightening, both in the sense of revealing the true depths of culinary mastery of the rest of the galaxy, and in that it had revealed to him the weakness of the asari palate.
They prized presentation, performance and promptness.
How the meal looked; how it had been prepared and how long it took, in other words.
Cooking for them was as much a show as it was about the meal itself. It was somewhat similar back on Earth. Much of gourmet cooking was merely a matter of presentation and performance, as well; it was why high level cooking had been and still was such a popular subject on television and extranet vids.
But where he could match Shiala on the first two parts, he had no way of matching her in promptness. Without biotics of his own, it was impossible to prepare food as quickly as she could. At least, without his pagoda.
But he did not have one, and constructing one would take too long.
Which was exactly what he had realized to be the weakness in asari cuisine. Promptness. Cooking is seduction; it is the slow dance where the victim is lulled into a moment of weakness and then taken down by the powerful and concentrated thrust. Cooking is war; appearances had to be deceiving and one's plans had to be carefully safeguarded to ensure that a critical impact was realized at the optimal moment.
He checked his knives.
Razor sharp.
Perfect. Now, all that remained was to await Benezia's arrival and the battle could begin. Speak of the devil...
"Apologies for—oh my..." The Matriarch paused as she beheld the change to the room. "It would appear you have everything ready, then."
"Yes. Go ahead, sit down. Do any of you wish for something to drink before I start?"
Once that was out of the way and everyone was seated, Emiya smirked. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, focusing on his heartbeat. It's time.
"Do you mind if we begin discussing while you prepare the food? Without biotics it will take quite a bit longer to prepare, I am aware," Benezia asked.
There was just a touch of patronizing. Matronizing...?
"That's fine, I don't mind." If you can, that is.
He wasn't going to leave them with enough presence of mind for anything like that.
The apron he had prepared was raised from below the table and he put it on with a flourish, creating a contrast with the black diamene weave he wore beneath it. He had dispelled the arm extensions; he needed his hands bare and unhindered for this. He had noted that Shepard and Shiala had both been eyeing his arms for a while now, more and less openly, obviously having noticed his seriousness. As expected of a veteran chef; she doesn't miss a thing.
The pans were already heated, the ingredients were all in place, the tools were all checked and prepared. His plan had been chosen; this battle had already been won before it had begun. He remembered what Benezia had eaten during the last time and had made sure to taste it all, and just now he had made sure to check her usual fare and favorites.
She wouldn't be a problem; he already had a grasp of her palate.
Shiala would appreciate anything he made, thus personal taste was irrelevant. She was an expert; a pro. There was no room for personal bias in their world.
Thus, it was Shepard who remained as the wildcard in this battle.
He didn't know what she liked, as she had mostly been eating military rations as far as he could tell for the past few years. And there hadn't been anything that stood out from his memories back in boot camp, either. Barcelona had been the only opportunity he had had to probe at her tastes, but he hadn't been gather intel intently back then, thus his memories weren't of any use.
Therefore there weren't any hints of her personal tastes or palate anywhere he could find.
But that was fine; the fog of war was not something he would balk before. There would always be friction between ideals and reality; between plans and realization.
He could only confront that unknown with his greatest effort!
Grabbing the grysh-root, he raised it to eye-level.
It was an onion-like root vegetable, both in appearance and in taste. In his other hand he grasped a sharp knife, intent on peeling the thing. Judging the distance and dimensions of the grysh, he spread his fingers slightly around the exterior, feeling out the texture of the dry surface.
The knife flashed.
A backhand sweep with the knife sent the cleanly removed peel flying into the designated trash bin by the side.
"Huh!?"
None of them had seen how it had been done; the benefits of truly superhuman ability. In this company, there was no reason to hold back either. And this wasn't anything yet; if he could not match up in promptness, then his performance and presentation would have to compensate.
Emiya tossed the grysh into the air and they gasped as their eyes followed it up. In the same instance his other hand swiped at the animal fat he had chosen for his frying. Slicing a long, thin peel of it with the knife, it was sent it flying straight into the hot pan.
The loud sizzling made three pairs of eyes swivel back down from the grysh still in the air, a mere second before it fell right into the pan and into the melting fat. They must have expected the whole grysh to bounce off, to cause the melting fat to be sent flying everywhere by the whole root vegetable's impact.
However...
It fell apart on contact, into perfectly proportioned slices. He had already cut it.
—Sight.
"What—!"
"When did he...!?"
He was going to sauté the grysh and some other vegetables for starters. But even if the explosive heat and rapid movements would be enough to keep most entertained for the duration, he wasn't satisfied with that. No, he needed to blow them all away with his performance if he wanted to surpass the asari.
Which meant he needed to up his game from here on forward with every step!
More flair! Faster! More precisely and with that dance-like rhythm to his movements! Pay attention to the sounds, build a symphony out of it and blend it all together!
He had to make music.
—Sound.
As he prepared the 'duck', he spared a glance at the three. It should be about now...
Shiala was the first; her throat contracted as she swallowed some of the excess saliva building up in her mouth. The smell was starting to waft about, unlike in biotic cooking where the foodstuff was carefully contained in mass effect fields. He smirked for just a moment, and then his full attention was back to his cooking.
—Scent.
The essence of cooking lies in seduction, and that was the root of greatest mistake asari made.
For what is seduction, but playing up on someone's anticipation and imagination? Of tempting and teasing them? And with biotic cooking, was the promptness not the greatest possible hindrance to that? For all that they romanticized seduction and wrote masterpieces on loves that took decades to bloom, they had no patience for the finer part of build up when it came to cooking, he had observed.
Perhaps once upon a time... But today when their love was characterized by how fleeting and transient their partners were, it was no wonder the asari had come to value promptness. The asari courted others with that difference in lifespan and ideology in mind. But to woo the asari it was important to realize the opposite was true, something he judged they must have started to collectively forget already.
Certainly they could build up and create a wondrous play of transient tastes with their samples and bite-sized offerings...
But why make an affair out gentle caresses and kisses, when one could go for something headier and more fulfilling? Why dance and twirl around, when instead one could offer something more solid and unyielding. Something that would sweep them off their feet, and give them no reprieve as it overwhelmed them fully.
They already wanted it.
Which meant he wasn't going to give it to them. Not just yet. After all, it was time for the pièce de résistance of his performance.
The rifle had been procured for just this. Optimally, he would have had more time to prepare and would have let the meat slowly cook for hours at a low heat. Promptness was all well and good, but sometimes taking things slow was necessary for getting all the flavor out of an ingredient.
Bones, marrow and cartilage in particular had such a rich taste, if one only knew how to extract it with the necessary patience and deliberation. Fish heads, pork hoofs and horns alike, all had something to offer as well, yet few knew how to seduce forth those essences.
Emiya scoffed.
He knew that to compete he needed time, yet he was cheating again. But this dinner had come up on such short notice, so he had to make do. Besides he only needed a hint of that richness for now.
The rifle had been turned into a small warp field engine, creating rapidly shifting mass lightening and heavening fields in alternation, mimicking the effects of slower cooking methods in breaking down some of the harder ingredients. It wasn't perfect, but it was close enough.
Which left only the final preparation.
He brought out the last pan and put the meat in. The searing and crackling was like a bolt of lighting from a clear sky after he had let the symphony of sounds settle down to let them rest. But it was time for the crescendo.
Taking out the bottle he had procured from Benezia's personal collection, he gave a wry smile as both of the asari immediately recognized it. He could see the confusion on their faces, after all what place had such a strong alcoholic beverage here with an open flame?
How naïve...!
It was time for the flambéing.
A seemingly careless swipe sent a long rivulet of the pink liquid flying into the pan before three pairs of expectant and confused eyes. And then the whirl of fire that almost reached the ceiling sent them reeling back, almost making them fall off their chairs in their shock.
The temperature in the room rose in blazing waves, leaving all four flushed and sweating as he continued.
—Light and heat.
And before he knew it, it was done. The flames receded, leaving them all just a little bit colder and dazed by its passing. Shiala and Shepard had been wearing long sleeves, but Benezia's bare arms shivered just a touch at the perceived chill.
Just in time for the presentation to be finished.
He set the plates, carefully placing each piece and morsel according to an arcane logic of aesthetics that only those who could lose themselves to the art of cooking could comprehend. And then with a flourish and flick of his wrist everything was in place before the three breathless spectators.
What did it matter if he could not prepare a meal with equal promptness, if he could instead vanish away their senses of time and bedazzle them with his performance?
"Bon appétit, ladies."
There was an absolute silence as he cut off the last of the heat and set aside the pans.
Finally, someone reacted.
"Holy shit, Emiya."
"Language, Shepard," he chastised her as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the far wall. "And do eat; food is made to be eaten, after all."
That last bit had been directed at Shiala who had been turning around her plate and taking in the thing before her with a scowl that was all too familiar to him. Go on... Taste it then.
He hadn't been known as the undefeated iron chef of the underground cuisine scene for three years for nothing after all.
The first to dig in was Benezia. Carried by a millennium of experience, she must have been confident in her palate's refinement regardless of the show he had put on.
—Flavor.
And so she was the first to lose; this meal had been tailor-made to defeat her. Cooking is war, and he had already researched her thoroughly. Her eyes shot wide, and a second later her throat bobbed as she swallowed, raising a lone hand to cover her mouth and the expression she was involuntarily making.
The Matriarch looked up and their eyes met.
He smirked. It's my victory.
She looked away and promptly began to savor the meal with the full attention it deserved, gracefully ignoring his petty posturing. He had to chuckle quietly at that; he had gotten worked up again, hadn't he? Next to her, Shiala and Shepard had already caught up and were long lost to the flavors overwhelming their transient existences.
It had only taken four bites, but finally Shiala grunted. She stared up at him with almost resentful eyes as he met her gaze down the length of his nose, and they both knew she had been defeated.
As for Shepard—
"This is really good! I knew you were good, but... Just wow!" She had obviously enjoyed it, seeing as how...?
"Is there any more? I could go for another... Maybe a third helping, too?"
Seeing as how it was already all gone...?
"Huh," Emiya blinked as he realized he might be staring down defeat already. Cooking is war, and he hadn't accounted for another glutton of that level. Yet, he realized his error immediately now. Shepard was a soldier, and soldiers all ate like horses.
Kuh, what an amateurish mistake. I've still a long way to go. With that, he kicked off the wall and returned to the table. He had a belly to fill, after all.
Yet somehow he felt like he was smiling.
;
Well. That was a thing.
Also, Benezia is a good girl!
Thanks to Olive Birdy, PseudoSteak and Dumdum for proofreading.