The darkness peeled back like someone pulling her eyelids open. A handsome, familiar face peered at her then blinded her with a light that stabbed an ice pick into her brain. Wait, someone actually was pulling her eyelids open.
Shepard jerked away, throwing spastic swats at the doctor, driving her back. "Sweet baby Jesus," she grumbled, her voice coming out like tumbling gravel. She swallowed and dragged her tongue over the carpet paste that covered the inside of her mouth. "Was anyone else hurt? And damn, Doc. Maybe let someone wake up before you peel their eyelids back and give them the ice pick in the eye treatment."
Dr. Chakwas folded her arms across her chest. "I'll remember that for the next time you get yourself shot thirty-one times." She sighed. "But, no, Captain, no one else was injured. Nihlus, Tali'Zorah, and Urdnot Wrex all escaped injury. Apparently, you're as greedy as you are obstinate and kept all the bullets for yourself." She held something up between her index finger and thumb. "As well as a bug."
Shepard took it, wincing as she extended her bad arm. "Ah. Nice. Thanks." She sat up, grinding her teeth to keep from groaning. "How long?" She braced her hands against the edge of the bed and leaned forward, giving her body a few moments to stop screaming at her. After she passed out, someone must have tenderized her, hollowed her out, then stuffed her with tacks, broken glass, and sharp rusty bits of metal. If she found out who did it, they'd pay. Pressing her hand to the ball of the opposite shoulder, she rolled the joint, grunting as the muscles threatened to snap.
"A day. I knew from your medical records that you wouldn't stay in bed once you regained consciousness, so I kept you sedated until the worst of the damage had time to heal." The doctor leaned down, lifting the hem of the gown to palpate Shepard's right knee. She looked up from under shuttered eyelids, watching Shepard's face as she poked here and there, manipulating the joint. "Luckily, your legs took the worst of it, all relatively simple injuries to heal, except for this knee. How are you feeling?"
Shepard winced, her face scrunching into a grimace as the doctor's fingers sent a bolt of jagged pain tearing from her knee to midthigh. "Ouch! Dammit! For the love of the baby Jesus, Doc. Stop it!" She cursed and reached down to rub her knee. "Mostly, I just feel like an idiot. I'm getting soft. A year ago, I would have never just accepted that quarian at his word."
When the doctor straightened, stepping back, Shepard eased herself off the edge of the bed. The deck plating dug into the soles of her feet. Every strand of muscle, tendon and ligament in her legs trembled like overtightened violin strings deciding whether to break or hold as they took her weight. Despite a few twangs here and there, most held, saving her the embarrassment of landing face-first on the floor between the doc's sensible shoes.
Good enough. Time to get her body working, drive it to heal. She didn't have time to convalesce. Tissues healed better with a shitload of medigel and blood racing through them. Lying around exercised all the wrong muscles, gave her too much time to think.
"Got a uniform and some undies, Doc?" When Dr. Chakwas set a small pile of clothing on the bed in front of her, Shepard untied the hospital gown and slipped it off her arms.
"Okay, so what's the news on our dead quarian friend?" She hesitated, the gown hanging from her hand over the bed. "They did bring him aboard, right?"
"They did." The doctor leaned against the next bed. "I performed a thorough autopsy, and below the neck everything checked out. He was a perfectly normal, middle-aged quarian male.
Shepard shivered, the medbay air chill on her bare skin, and dropped the gown. "Below the neck." The words sent a tremor of fear and revulsion through her, nipping at the heels of the chill. She stepped into her panties. "Do I want to know what that means?"
The door opened behind her. Shooting a glance over her shoulder, Shepard nodded to Nihlus before turning her attention back to the doctor. "So, above the neck?" She slipped her bra up her arms and tugged it down over her breasts, but she couldn't convince her bad shoulder to reach around behind her to do it up. Looking back at Nihlus, she cocked an eyebrow. "Could you give me a hand?"
He started to step forward, then lurched to a halt.
"What? Do you know how to do it?" He nodded, so she shrugged. "Then what's the problem?" Following his stare, she realized his issue. "That's an old wound," she said, referring to the ten inch band of dark pink scar tissue that ran down her right side from her shoulder blade to kidney. "Seventeen year old drug addict versus dealer. Split me open almost all the way to the front."
"You trying to break them up?" he asked, grasping her bra and quickly clipping it.
"No, I was busy beating the shit out of him for my Hallex. Well, and trying unsuccessfully not to get stabbed." She nodded. "Thanks."
She grabbed the trousers off the bed and shook them out. "Sorry about that, Doc. Report away."
"Han'Gerrel's brain chemistry was radically out of balance, Shepard, and I found severe lesions on his prefrontal cortex." The doctor rubbed her hands together, almost as if trying to wash them, her whole demeanour discomfitted.
"So, pretend that I left my neuroscience degree in my other pants. What does this mean?" Shepard pulled up her trousers and fastened them.
Dr. Chakwas looked as though she'd rather chew her own arm off than speak the words, but finally spat out. "It looks like mind control."
"Oh." Shepard sighed and nodded, tilting her head back and forth a little. "Makes sense. He appeared normal enough, but right now, we're one of the best hopes of finding their kids. Opening fire on me doesn't fit." She glanced back at Nihlus. "Maybe Saren got to him?"
The Spectre sucked in a quick breath, his mandibles flicking with the excitement of something, finally, making sense. "He could have been working with Saren for months, giving him the pilgrim's locations, keeping Rael'Zorah off Saren's trail."
Shepard nodded, her eyebrows arching in concern. "I just hope he didn't get to, and dispose of, Tali's father before we got there."
Dr. Chakwas cleared her throat, regaining Shepard's attention. "My autopsy confirms that the changes in Han'Gerrel's brain chemistry and structure had been ongoing for about a year. Also, judging by the state of the lesions on his prefrontal cortex, he would have died within the next year."
Shepard stepped into her boots and reached for her uniform, but her attention was on Nihlus. "Did C-Sec and Sparky find out where Liara T'Soni is?" Shepard struggled to get her uniform on, but managed to wrestle it into submission and tucked it in.
"Yes, she's participating in an archeological dig on the planet Therum in the Knossos system, Artemis Tau Cluster."
Shepard nodded. "Okay. I have to spend some time in the gym getting my body to behave, and then I need to go ashore for a few minutes." She lifted her hand to her ear.
"Pressley, start clearances and preflight to get us out of here as soon as possible." When her XO responded to the affirmative, she asked. "How long are we going to have to wait, approximately?" She paused, then groaned. "Really? Three hours? Okay. Do what you can. Shepard out."
"Three hours before we can leave?" Nihlus repeated, letting out a chuff of air.
"Heavy traffic load, not enough controllers." She gave him a crooked smile. "Don't suppose Spectre authority could get us out of here in two?"
He nodded. "If you don't mind losing what small amount of anonymity we have."
"Three hours it is." Shepard looked over at the doctor. "Thanks for patching me up, Doc. Much appreciated."
"Keep coming in like that, Shepard, I'll just install an electromagnet to pull all the bullets out at once." Dr. Chakwas peered at the area above the bed as if considering the viability of that option.
"Ouch, Doc." Shepard winced and backed toward the medi-gel dispenser. "Harsh, very harsh. You're a cruel woman." She grabbed a couple of injectable packets then stepped out the door, turning back to grin. "I knew I liked you."
"Are you actually ready for duty?" Nihlus asked once the door closed. "You couldn't even do up your own bra."
"If I'm conscious, I'm working." She leaned down and stabbed one of the medi-gel packs into her knee, then the other into her shoulder. The pain eased from an eight to a five, and she let out a long breath of relief. "Much better. Now, I just need to get them moving." She headed to her quarters, stopping partway across the deck to turn back. "You coming ashore with me?"
He hesitated long enough for her to guess his thought process. Strength in numbers versus keeping their eggs in separate baskets. She left him to decide and continued on.
"Hey, Sparky. Good work tracking T'Soni. Be ready to go ashore in an hour or so."
If Kaidan felt any trepidation at her being back to work, he didn't show it. "Yes, ma'am."
Ten minutes later, Shepard walked into the small gym space, stopping when she saw Vakarian kicking the living crap out of one of the bags. Leaning against the door, she watched, waiting for him to notice her there rather than drawing attention to herself. He moved well, strong, balanced, his skill obvious, but at the moment skill didn't appear to matter. Bare talons slit the heavy leather like tissue paper, rage and frustration expressing themselves in their purest form.
Wearing only leggings, he offered her first real chance to see what a turian looked like under the layers and gloves. She shook her head. It seemed as if when all the races met one another, they instantly decided that they needed to downplay the physical differences. He was magnificent. Tall and broad through the shoulders, the layered plates of his chest and the smooth curve of his cowl a steel grey, tough-looking even though they didn't provide him much more protection than her skin gave her. Softer hide, like that at his throat, covered his belly above the waist of his leggings.
He broke off and threw himself back, bouncing on his talons for a moment, before bending over, elbows on knees.
"I think you killed it, C-Sec." She crossed her arms over her chest, a teasing smile lifting the left side of her face.
He spun, completely thrown for a second, then let out a laugh like a rifle shot. "You can bill me."
"Nah." She shoved off the side of the door with her hip and walked toward him. "That one can be your bitch. We'll just grab you a sewing kit so you can patch it up afterward." She bent down, grabbed the end of the weight bench between her legs and turned it so she could straddle it and still face him. "Have any luck with the admiral's omnitool?"
He nodded. "A little." He returned to kicking the crap out of the bag, but at a more controlled pace. "It's heavily encrypted, but between Tali and I, we'll break it." He hit the bag with an open hand. Having taken her share of boxer's fractures in training, she understood.
She stood and pulled the bug out of her pocket. "Can either of you two tech geniuses get this thing to send a false location?"
He stopped again, taking it from her palm, the edge of his talon sliding over her skin. She pulled back, scrubbing her arms with her hands to hide the gooseflesh before she embarrassed herself.
"Where did this come from?" He held it up, examining it with his visor.
"That turian female planted it on me when she stumbled into the car. Planted one on the car as well, not that it will matter. Saren can waste all the time he wants following that cab around." She stripped off her uniform top and threw it over the bench then moved to the mats to stretch. Groaning like a ninety-year-old porn star, she bent over, gravity gradually pulling her down until she could press her palms to the floor.
Garrus laughed. "That was a disturbing sound." He pocketed the bug. "Why not just destroy it?"
Shepard walked her hands backwards until her head made it between her knees, her arms wrapping around her legs. "I could," she said, grunting, her face twisting into a grimace. "But if I can send Saren the completely wrong direction for a bit, it might buy us some time."
Vakarian crouched down a couple of metres away, studying her with the expression of an interrogator. "You gave that female food, medi-gel, and water sterilization packs even though you knew she was planting a bug?" When Shepard nodded, he shifted his weight to one leg, his eyes narrowing. "Why?"
She shrugged then unwound, walking her hands forward into downward dog facing forward. "If she was desperate enough to accept money from a stranger to plant a bug on someone despite the danger, she needed the supplies." She dropped her ass, arching into upward dog facing forward, her back cracking like old twigs underfoot. After stretching there for a second, she looked over at him, finding him still staring at her like he could read her mind. "Little help?"
He chuckled and straightened, standing over her legs. Looping his hands under her arms, he hauled her up and set her on her feet. "Are you sure you should even be out of bed yet?"
She twisted at the waist, stretching her sides. "Yep. Don't heal lying around a medbay." She twisted the other way. "So, our prothean expert is on Therum?"
Garrus backed away and crossed his arms, the intensity in his stare never wavering. "Yes. I contacted the dig site a couple of hours ago, and there hadn't been any sign of geth, or anyone who shouldn't be on the planet."
Shepard tried to grasp her wrists behind her back, but her bad shoulder refused. "Little help?" He pressed his palms against the outside of her arms gently, just providing traction until she could clasp her hands. "Thanks." She groaned again as she lifted her arms, the pain almost enough to make her throw up, but she fought it down. "I need to go to the med clinic, grab a medical exoskeleton for each of our ground team, then we'll head straight there."
She released the stretch and pinwheeled her arms a few times, loosening them up. "Can you take it a little more easy on an old lady than you did on that bag?" She slapped her hand against her taut, bare midriff as she took her stance, bouncing a little to shut up her screaming knee. "Haven't got the hide for taking much abuse from the talons."
Taking a relaxed stance across from her on the mat, he shook his head. "Judging by the sounds you made stretching, I should wrap my hands and feet in padding."
Shepard stepped into him, hooking his ankle with her foot, throwing him onto his back, then pinned him with his knee pressed into his keel. "You were saying?" She wriggled her eyebrows at him and bounced her elbow off his gut, just hard enough to make him grunt.
"Ouch."
She jumped up, offering him a hand to pull him off the mat, then flew through the air, ending up on her belly, arm and one legged pinned.
"You were saying?" he asked, his subvocals rumbling next to her ear.
"Ow." She groaned as all her body parts fought to make their aches and pains known over the screams of their fellows. She gritted her teeth, shoving the pain aside, and bucked him off. Scrambling up, she backed away, a wide smile on her face. "Oh, I like a man who plays dirty." She cracked her neck. "Come on, C-Sec, bring it on."
A half hour later, Garrus released her from his pin and rolled over onto his back, leaning up on his elbows. "You grapple pretty well for someone in her nineties."
Shepard kicked him in the ankle. "And you grapple pretty well for a beat cop." She grinned, then sat up, crossing her legs. "How soon can you get that bug reset? I want to drop it off on the Citadel before we pull out for Therum."
He stood and held out a hand to help her up. "I'll re-calibrate it and have it ready in a half hour."
She nodded and grabbed a towel off the stack, throwing it around her neck. "Good. Suit up and be ready to go ashore in forty-five." She jogged to the door, snatching her uniform off the weight bench on her way past.
Stopping at the door, Shepard glanced back. "Hey, C-Sec . . .."
He looked up, brow plates rising.
"Thanks. You're not a bad guy . . . for a cop." She lifted one corner of her mouth in a grudging smile. One day soon, she'd peel him open like an orange to find out where all that rage came from, but for now they had work to do. She nodded toward the bag. "Don't forget to patch up the suspect before he lawyers up."
His mandibles spread a little as he chuckled and shook his head.