(A-N: So, long chapter is long. Sorry/not sorry. I could have broken it up, but didn't want to stick another update between these two crazy kids. So, grab a coffee or hot chocolate or iced tea and settle in. :D)
25 Days ASR
Space. Awe at its beauty and terror at its vast emptiness always tore Shepard back and forth, a two headed dog with a rope. One second the black nothingness sucked the air from her lungs, the next, natural masterpieces of colour and light packed it all back in and then some. Sometimes, she didn't go near a port for days, preferring the illusion of solid walls and the bright glare of lights. Others times, she spent hours just sitting at a port or in a viewing lounge, staring out at a nebula or star, losing herself in nature's chaotic art.
The darkness though … the darkness terrified her all the way to the marrow of her bones. Impossibly cold, impossibly empty, the endless stretches between stars amounted to one of the least hospitable environments humans could experience. She'd survived her EVA training thanks to the wonder of the Earth and Moon around her, the ship just behind her, suspended like magic … or science. The difference between the two depended on the angle and her terror level.
That night, the emptiness flowed past, cool and comforting as it slipped along the length of her body, a mother's hand stroking her hair. The suzerain slept, and between the stars, the darkness wrapped her in peace as she sailed through it: free, graceful, and silent. A distant nebula called to her, its gravity tugging ever so gently. She shifted, adjusting her internal energy flow, and as the field grew around her, that tiny piece of gravity sped her on, faster and faster, following her will.
The suzerain roused, the disturbance it sensed out amidst the stars appearing in her mind as well. A call to watch, to still the endless chatter of the beings that filled those systems, to wait. She released her destination reluctantly, the beautiful colours leading her on. Desire. Yes, the suzerain had taught her desire, the yearning strong. But not as strong as the pain.
Agony seared through her, a blackness so much colder and darker than space tearing along every seam between notes ... the billions of fragments that bound together to form the song that was her. She released the nebula, the suzerain's will overriding hers, turning her toward the filthy rock. It did not sing. It howled and wailed, a beast in pain, its song soured by suffering.
"Captain Shepard?"
Shepard's eyelids fluttered open then slammed shut, the brilliant orange fires of hell searing her retinas to a crisp. "For the love of the holy Enkindlers, what is it with doctors and trying to blind people with omnitools?" She lifted a hand to cover her eyes, taking refuge in the dark until the fireworks died down.
"We take a class. It covers freezing cold hands and medical tools in addition to blinding patients with omnitools, and of course, proper development of the god complex. The exam is a real killer." Not Chakwas. So, the company doc. What was her name? Eis. Doctor Eis, the smart ass. Right.
When her eyes stopped complaining, Shepard peeked out between her fingers. The orange light of doom had vanished. She lifted her head to discover lowered privacy screens … even the lights had been dimmed, and a nice thick layer of blankets covered her. How comfortably considerate.
"Am I going to live, Doc?" Shepard asked, looking up at the woman. Shifting a little under the covers, she tested out her arms and legs. Other than a steady thumping in her head, she felt not too bad.
"You will. I flushed the narcotics from your system, repaired several hairline fractures and a great deal of soft tissue damage, and am treating your neurotransmitter imbalance." As if to emphasize her proactivity, she pressed a syringe to Shepard's upper arm. "You will be up and ready to get yourself blown up again by the time we reach Omega."
Shepard chuckled. "I generally try to avoid that part." She lifted her right hand to her face, feeling for the hard little pieces of crystal, but they'd disappeared. Looking at her wrist, she saw that the cuff was gone as well. She didn't recall it coming off. "When did the crystal on my arm come off?" she asked, not sure whether to be relieved or worried. The bombardment on the planet had scared her, but she'd hoped to get a chance to figure out what the crystals were, maybe find a way to contact the intelligence behind them … because there had been intelligence behind the desperation. She knew that as surely as she knew anything.
"I gave you a sedative. I needed to get beneath it to set your wrist fracture." The doctor held up a tray, two halves of the cuff sitting on it. "As soon as I started looking for a way to get it off, it just snapped open and fell off in my hand." Dr. Eis gestured toward Shepard's face. "All the ones caught in your wounds fell out at the same time. I gathered them on the tray, but after I was done, I looked and the little bits had disappeared."
Shepard sat up, crossing her legs under the covers before she took the tray, leaning close to examine the object. The cuff looked like hundreds of thousands—maybe even millions—of slightly foggy diamonds pressed together into a solid structure. Damn. Blowing a slight sigh out her nose, she slumped. She'd have suffered through a slightly misaligned wrist to have unravelled even a couple of the mysteries behind the strange crystals.
She set the tray down on her lap and picked up the two halves. "Don't suppose you have some sort of latch somewhere?" she asked. Placing her wrist in one half, she set the other half over top. Without a sound, or any perceptible movement, the two halves sealed around her arm once more. She grinned, the fog of disappointment evaporating before the sun. "Well, what do you know?"
A wave of joy and expectation rose up to meet her own, the two twining and building to almost frightening level. Shepard's heart hammered against her chest wall and high in her throat, dizziness setting in. Or was it hers at all? She shook her head, pushing away the foreign emotion, erecting a wall to close herself off. "Don't force your emotions on me," she whispered, glancing over at the doctor who activated her omnitool. "I'm not going crackers, Doc. I think it … they … are some sort of crystalline life form. They're scared and reaching out, but too strong. I think they're trying to force me to empathize with them."
"Something is going on along your neural pathways, spiking energy readings along the same paths that were depressed before." Eis keyed the interface, her fingers speeding over the tool. "Shut it down, Captain. Even if it means taking it off."
Directing her attention back at the cuff, Shepard tried to form her commands into emotion and pictures as she said, "Communicate with me. Don't try to manipulate me." After a second, the emotional storm backed down. She let out a long breath of relief as the feeling of being invaded drew back. She really did have far too many people treating her brain like the extranet.
Drawing in a long breath, she focused on projecting her curiosity and suspicion as she spoke, "Thank you. What are you? Who are you?"
.
Her omnitool activated, the translation program opening. A small glowing screen activated inside the cuff, slightly obfuscated by the crystal. A list of words began to appear, slowly scrolling around the circumference of Shepard's arm.
Simple. Complex. Interdependent. Tiny. Alone. Peaceful. Slaves. Notes. Song. Alive.
Shepard held the cuff up for the doctor to see. The woman met the captain's stare, overflowing with wonder that mirrored the fireworks going off inside Shepard's head. Actual contact with an alien lifeform … the stuff of every dreamer who ever looked at the stars and wondered what else lived out there. "You're alive?" she asked, feeling dumb the second the words escaped her mouth.
"Alive," appeared on the screen again, then disappeared. Shepard stared at it, trying to figure out how it could possibly be alive.
"Do your people have a name?" Dr. Eis asked. She leaned in so tight that Shepard wondered if the doctor was going to crawl into her lap.
The cuff flashed, 'Chiastyllia.'
An image of a single, but intricately complex, crystal replaced the name. Above it, Shepard read the words, 'Note. Single. Not smart." The word note pricked her memory. She'd heard the single life forms referred to as notes somewhere before. Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift, trying to follow the thread of that word, but then her omnitool dinged, pulling her back.
More and more notes appeared on the cuff, drawing together to form an image of the cuff. "Small song," scrolled around her arm. "Not very smart." More notes clustered until it created a likeness of the SR2. "Large song. Smart."
Shepard understood. "The more of you join together, the smarter you are. You share consciousness and intelligence."
"Yes."
"This is extraordinary," Eis whispered, leaning close over Shepard's elbow. "If they have no real consciousness or intelligence in their singular form, how do they know to form these larger songs?"
Shepard felt the answer as she had felt the familiarity with the name for the singular beings, it tickled the back of her mind, an itch her hand lifted to scratch, but even as she rubbed the back of her neck, the solution remained elusive.
"Will." The word glowed.
"Wait." Of course. "This cuff formed when I wished for some way to communicate with the notes … to find out what they wanted. I focused on my omnitool … being able to use it to speak to them." She squinted, staring at the word even though it dissolved into an orange blur as she focused her attention inward. Will pulled them together, forming them into something useful. "If I had wanted a weapon to destroy the notes?"
Despair stabbed through her, sliver sharp and piercing. When she focused on the cuff, it displayed one word.
Death.
"On the planet, the voices kept crying out about being in pain and alone," she said, trying to focus on the chorus of tiny voices all speaking as one. "You said something about my having broken the darkness, having defeated the old masters. Do you have to obey someone's will regardless of what they would do with you?"
"Suzerain," appeared on her cuff. "Yes. Have will. Stronger will wins."
Again, that word sent a prickle of recognition trickling through her brain and down her spine. "Those are the masters?"
The door into the medbay opened, Miranda striding in, doing her best to hide her limp. "Captain, EDI said you're awake." She looked over at Eis. "I thought I asked to be informed the moment Shepard—"
"Miranda, stop," Shepard said, her voice slicing through the XO's. "This is not Miranda Lawson's little kingdom." She stuck her arm under the blankets. "Thank you, Doctor," she said, hoping that Eis would understand to keep their little chat to herself. Not that EDI would.
High time to curb that little issue, if at all possible. "Miranda, pull up a chair. I want to have a chat with you and EDI. That means I'd appreciate being able to see you as well, EDI." Shepard nodded as the blue pawn-shaped hologram appeared on the emitter. "Thank you." Waiting until Miranda settled, Shepard put together her argument. Despite Miranda's assertion that her boss had been killed escaping the station, Shepard knew that someone still pulled her strings. She had her suspicions about who that was, but in the end, that didn't matter ... if she could manage to get some autonomy.
Miranda rolled a chair over and sat, one knee over the other, her hands folded in her lap. "Very well, Shepard. What do you want to talk about?"
Taking a deep breath, Shepard packed down the annoyance Miranda's tone inspired. If she lost her temper, she'd just feed into the operative's conviction that she needed to be micro-managed. "We need to come to an agreement about a few things. The first is my privacy. I don't intend to have my every bathroom break and sneeze reported while I'm aboard this ship. If I pass out in my cabin, slip in the shower and crack my head open, or grab a knife from the galley and go all, 'Here's Johnny,' that's one thing, but day to day, I want EDI and you out of my hair."
Miranda just raised an eyebrow and shifted a little in her chair. "Anything else, Captain?"
Shepard chuckled. "Oh yes, get comfortable. You've told me that I am in command of this ship, and yet you hide information from me, and have everyone reporting to you rather than me. You don't even report to me unless it's something you want me to do. That ends. Right now. EDI, you report to me. Miranda, you also report to me. Everything that happens on this ship in a day is assembled into a report that crosses my desk at the end of beta shift. I don't care if it's how much toilet paper we ordered, I want it in the report."
"Shepard … I … ." Miranda shifted again.
"This is a deal breaker, Miranda. I'm not a puppet. I don't want crew coming to me to ask me about why there's no toilet paper, and having to fumble for an answer like an idiot." She met and held her XO's stare, shaking her head once as Miranda moved to open her omnitool. "I'm going to ask these people to trust me and follow me as we go up against a race of aliens who could crush us like insects under foot. Are they going to have that trust if you are constantly undermining me by being the effective CO?" Her shoulders popped in a shrug that hid the depth of her discomfort and distrust.
The operative's hand hovered over her omnitool for a moment, then dropped to her lap. She tilted her head, watching Shepard with a cocked eyebrow and a very dubious stare. "How can I trust that you'll report everything to me? You certainly haven't demonstrated a keen desire to cooperate with me this far."
Shepard chuckled, surprise pulling it from her lips before she could stop it. Command of the great ship Nameless might just be the most messed up situation she'd ever found herself in. "I won't tell you everything, Miranda. There are some things that just frankly are none of your business." She leaned forward, her forearms resting over her knees. Of course, in order to start gaining the crew's respect and loyalty, she needed to get her ass out of medbay and start attending to the day to day.
"Excuse me, Captain Shepard, Operative Lawson," EDI said, "our contacts on Omega have reported in: the attack on the Archangel base began just over twelve hours ago."
"Thank you, EDI," Miranda said, "that's not unexpected." The operative didn't even shift her weight or expression.
"The hell it's not." Shepard glanced back and forth between the glowing chess piece on the emitter and her XO. "This is the first of it, Miranda. I want you to bring me up to speed, and from now on, I know everything. I can't command this vessel and bring its crew back alive from missions if I don't have all the facts. So, start at the beginning. Who or what is Archangel?" Holding up a finger to forestall Miranda's answer, Shepard looked over at the doctor. "Raise the head of the bed for me, please, Doc?"
The top half of the bed tilted up until Shepard could lean back comfortably. "Thanks." She returned to Miranda. "Okay, go ahead."
For the next two hours Shepard's executive officer and enhanced defence intelligence filled her in on the state of the galaxy. Archangel's existence and the sheer size of it blew her away. This mysterious turian figure who believed in the Reapers enough to start it … had she known him? Met him at some point? As far as she remembered, no one other than the Normandy crew believed.
Damn the blank spots in her head. If she didn't already felt like a glass dropped off the top of a skyscraper, she'd push, see if she couldn't draw any memories forward. No one outside her circle had believed in the Reapers when she died. So either her people managed to convince someone else, or her mystery turians were all the same. Had her lover taken up her fight? She poked the blanks spots, but to no avail. No matter how close she got to rediscovering her life, something always seemed to hold it just out of reach.
Sweet baby Jesus, I need to get to Omega already.
Scowling, Shepard dragged her focus back to the problem at hand. Regardless of who ran the organization, the council, Collectors, and Reapers had already tried to take out Archangel's leadership, set off a massive bomb on Tuchanka, wiped out a couple of facilities, and had over five thousand mercs on Omega ready to wipe out the six hundred or so defenders. Somehow, she needed to make the addition of six people count enough to tip the scales.
She almost laughed.
Looking between Miranda and EDI once more, she asked, "Okay, so if Archangel has been getting this big and scary … building a navy … developing new weapon tech, why have the Reapers waited until now to try to wipe them out? Theories?"
"The attacks against them coincided with the success of Project Lazarus," Miranda offered. The operative shifted in her chair, uncrossing her legs to change knees, then folded her hands in her lap once more. "Perhaps the enemy didn't concern themselves until there was a chance you would return to take up leadership. You've killed one of them using less."
Squinting, focused on the options as her mind flipped through them, Shepard nodded. "That might be part of it, but very little is that simple. I think it has more to do with these human colony disappearances. Archangel is looking into them, so the Collectors distract them from looking too closely by beating them down. The Reapers are ready to make their next move." The more she spoke, the more she knew she was headed in the right direction. "They allowed Archangel to grow unchecked, knowing that they really weren't a threat. What does it hurt to let them spend their resources, build, and organize when you know that with a couple of good swats, you can take them all out, leave them with no time or resources to rebuild."
Miranda's pretty face hardened into a scowl. "It makes sense to leave things as long as they could in that case." She leaned forward, her arms crossed over her knee. "However, other than the Collectors taking out Archangel's weapon testing facility, the enemy's plans have failed. They didn't go in with enough ships to guarantee success at Tuchanka or Freedom's Progress."
Shepard's face drew into a scowl as well. "Hmmm. Maybe my early wake up threw their schedule into fast forward." Narrowing her eyes she stared down at the chiastyllia wrapped around her arm, eyes following the glimmers of light and reflection as her brain sorted through the problem. After a minute or so, the taiko drummers behind her eyes rolled in their drums and took formation. "I think you're right, Miranda. They expected to have at least six more months to work before I became a problem … if their assassination attempts failed."
"Your logic is sound, Captain Shepard," EDI stated.
"What's our ETA at Omega?" Her stomach clenched, anticipation and dread raising their banners to flutter above the battleground. So many possibilities awaited on that filthy rock.
"Fourteen hours."
A long time for those beleaguered soldiers to hold off the enemy. Hopefully they had solid defenses that helped offset the enemy's numbers. "Send all the intel on the merc numbers and organization to my omnitool, EDI. I'll go over it and see if I can orchestrate a miracle." Shepard kept her omnitool hidden under the blanket, even when it beeped, acknowledging receipt of the information.
"Captain," Dr. Eis said, drawing her attention as the woman stepped up beside her bed. "You need to rest as long as possible." Shepard's mouth quirked into a crooked smile as the doctor turned to Miranda, her shoulders square and pushed back, jaw set. "Operative Lawson, I need to put your leg back in a regen cage, and then you should eat and get eight solid hours of rest. Report back before we arrive at Omega. I want to be sure your bones and ligaments are up to taking the strain of combat."
Miranda stood and headed for the door. "You can bring the equipment to my quarters, Doctor Eis." She glanced over at Shepard. "I'll be available if you wish to run anything past me, Captain."
Shepard nodded, but put enough steel in her expression to assure her XO that she wouldn't be debating her battle plans or running them past her except during briefings. She waited until Lawson left before she looked at the blue thing on the small platform. "EDI, I want to know every scrap of intel that comes into this ship. I don't want my every move reported to Miranda or the people she works for … and don't bother trying to sell me the line that they all died. I might have just been reborn three weeks ago, but I'm not an idiot."
EDI didn't reply, no doubt checking with Miranda. Not that Shepard could blame the AI. She had programming blocks that forced compliance. After a full minute, EDI said, "As you wish, Shepard."
Shepard looked down at her wrist, sending the chiastyllia a request to get her wrist back along with a promise to help them if she could. The cuff detached, and Shepard passed it to Dr. Eis.
"Do you think they'd talk to me?" the young woman asked, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement. She held the two parts of the cuff gingerly.
"That would be a question for them, Doc." Shepard let out a long breath. Despite the fascination that sparked at the base of her skull and tingled along her arms, unless she found a way to clone herself, someone else was going to need to research the new lifeforms. Her plate overflowed with more than enough to keep three of her busy. "If they are okay with it, send me a daily report with what you learn, and if they need to talk to me, let me know."
"Thank you, Captain, I will." The doctor returned to her desk, a huge grin brightening her face.
Well, Janey, that's one more crew member who won't stab you in the back than you had a few minutes ago.
Shepard opened the information EDI had sent her on Archangel's situation and started to read.
Lawson … oh, who was Shepard trying to fool? … Cerberus had connections on both sides, so their intel was impressively thorough. After testing Archangel's defenses with a tenth of their heavy mechs, Eclipse and the Blue Suns had attacked from three sides while the Blood Pack blew into the tunnels from the sewers. The fighting had been long and bloody, but the defenses held and the fighting had devolved into a holding action, harrying the Archangel lines just enough to wear them down.
Someone had blown up all but three of the Blue Suns gunships. The Suns tried using shuttles, but Archangel's heavies sent them straight to hell. The Suns were currently also holding as they waited for a transport filled with new gunships. Shepard wasn't worried about them, though. They weren't due for three days. What did worry her was Archangel's remaining fighters, of which there were just under five hundred. They'd already be exhausted and their lines would start to falter even with a supply of stims. In two … maybe three days at most, they'd start making fatal mistakes. If it went on long enough for the gunships to get there … if Shepard didn't come up with something miraculous … Archangel would cease to exist.
Of course, you do occasionally pull off miracles. Particularly when all you need to do is blow a lot of shit up. You have a gift for that.
Confidence began to crystallize, notes of knowledge and experience formed lattices of competence. The mechs were the key. If she could co-opt their IFFs, Eclipse would be wiped out before they even became an issue. And if she could rig a dozen of their antigrav lifts so they dumped heavies where she wanted them … the poor sods inside that building might actually get enough time to choke down some food.
She could do it. She'd done things far more impossible. It would come down to planning and a decent diversion. Shepard brought up the map of the Eclipse base of operations, forcing all her conflicting emotions and thoughts aside. She had a mission to plan. "All right. Where are you, mechs? And where is your computer network?"
§§§
"That was a lot easier than I anticipated," Miranda whispered under her breath as the squad strode away from the Eclipse recruiting station.
Shepard chuckled. "I think Jack bouncing that lieutenant halfway across the markets when he tried to grope her made an impression." Glancing toward the young biotic, Shepard checked to be sure that the young woman had come through unscathed. Jack seemed restless, edgy and more temperamental than usual, but Shepard suspected the biotic owed that to her new armour rather than anything else.
"Run around wearing nothing more than a few leather straps for years and the assholes don't bother me." Jack tugged at the collar and rolled her shoulders. "Stick on six inches of ceramic plating, and one makes a clumsy grab for my tits. Asshole." She sniffed and rolled her throat, ready to spit, but stopped when Shepard shook her head.
"I thought you showed reasonable control," Shepard replied, her gaze travelling over the rest of her team. "And that asari captain's reaction clearly said that Lt. Grabtits tries that crap all the time." Vincent and Liara walked along, guarded and watchful, but settled. Javik stalked, muttering to himself under the helmet Shepard had insisted he wear. They'd have an easier time claiming he was just into his armour being some bizarre fashion statement then trying to explain the unknown alien in their midst. Miranda stayed just behind Shepard, silent, her eyes fixed on the side of Shepard's head as if trying to burrow inside to discover if the captain had left anything out of their briefing.
Shepard headed across the marketplace to a shop belonging to an elcor called Harrot. He'd been recommended as the least expensive place to buy the electronics she needed. As she made her way past the batarian ranting about sin, humans, and repentance, she listened to the soles of her boots making cricket noises in the sticky filth, dejavu hitting hard. The whole market seemed familiar, as if she walked in footsteps she'd taken before. Longing and sadness threw down gauntlets and swaggered into the ring, but she didn't indulge them, pushing on.
"Hey there!" a high-pitched female voice called from Shepard's right. She turned to face the young asari who waved. "Hi. I remember you … don't see soldiers your size much. Did that dress knock his mandibles off?"
That dress? Shepard frowned, trying to draw forward the memory. That dress … ?
The frown transmuted into a slow smile, as the image of looking at herself in the mirror flashed through her mind. Midnight blue … more collar than dress … and impossible heels that actually gave her an ass. "Magic shoes," she muttered to herself. She remembered wearing that dress to get past the Blue Suns. Oh! Yes! The memory of the shop returned, along with a pointed ache behind Shepard's eyes.
"The impressively sexy woman to your right, C-Sec." She waved. "Yeah, hi. It's me, not a ventriloquist act. Let's go."
She smiled, pushing the pain aside. "Yes, it went over very well." Even covered in blood and sewer crap. "Thanks." She lifted a hand as the sadness transformed into a flutter of hope and excitement deep in her belly … and an impressive pounding across the front of her head. C-Sec … she'd called him C-Sec.
So close. So very close.
Shepard stopped outside Harrot's shop and turned to Vincent, Javik, and Liara. "Okay, you three go procure the other items on the list. We'll meet you at the Eclipse transport site in an hour." She snagged Javik as he grumped past, his entire demeanour setting off the alarm at the base of her skull. "Stay silent. No calling people primitives, no saying how people were so much less stupid in your cycle … . You're there to watch their backs. Today is not the day to unleash the last prothean on the galaxy."
He nodded, apparently taking her warning to heart as he moved on without arguing.
Miranda and Jack followed Shepard into the store, the three of them splitting up to go through the kiosks looking for the items on Shepard's list. Fifteen minutes later, she paid—thank you for the slush fund, Miranda—and then headed to the next store along the marketplace. Three stores later, Shepard herded the ladies over to a food court and a table in a back corner. Sitting with her back to the crowd felt like painting a bullseye on the back of her head, but she wanted to give her weapon building endeavours some cover. For long seconds, she forced herself to sit there and breathe, to relax down into her seat and wall up the panic. She couldn't go into every crowd for the rest of her life and panic for fear of someone shooting her in the head.
"Miranda, grab us some drinks so no one pays us any attention." Shepard managed say, her voice a harsh croak as it muscled its way out past the fist gripping her larynx. When her XO nodded and walked away, Shepard took out the first of the toys, cracking it open.
"So, why toys, Shepard?" Jack asked, sitting next to her, also facing the wall.
"These sorts of remote control toys all have chips to slave them to their owner's omnitool." She exposed the chip in question, entering the new frequency and carrier codes before popping the chip out. "They're pretty much the exact same chips that basic machinery uses to recognize operator commands." Three more chips sat on the table in front of her before Miranda returned and thumped three cranberry juices down on the table.
Shepard passed them each a couple of the toys. "Jack, set those to your omnitool and pack them full of your little surprises. Miranda, just pack them and then pass them to Jack."
Jack practically cackled as she picked up a handful of mining explosives, kneading a handful of metal scrap into it. "Fuck, yeah, this is the good stuff, it's going to take merc heads off for a twenty metre radius." She picked up a toy helicopter and packed the cab full of the deadly mixture, a maniacal grin splitting her face. "First giant mechs and now two gangs! I should have signed up with you earlier. You really know how to show a girl a good time, Shepard."
Shepard repurposed another chip and then popped it out. "I was dead earlier." She grinned at the look Jack shot her way. "What? It's true." She winked and focused on her work. "Come on, let's get our presents ready, we've got twenty minutes until Vincent and the others get to the transport station."
Twenty minutes later, she led the way to the transport station, the toys all carefully reboxed and laid out along the bottom of two duffels, overtop of which she and Jack had piled their weapons and armour. Recruits showing up with duffels filled with gear wouldn't raise eyebrows. Toys … toys would. She just hoped that their check-in officer would be too busy to do thorough searches.
"Shepard," Vincent greeted her. "Got everything on the list and a few extra little items from a dumpster that will liven the party considerably." A wide, cocky grin spread across the broad planes of his face.
"Excellent." She nodded to the human driver. "Hi." She held out the datapad with their orders and details.
The man stared at her for a few seconds without acknowledging her, as if waiting for her to explain why she dared interrupt his very vital session of car leaning. Then, snatching the datapad from her hand, he looked it over before nodding toward his car and then the asari standing beside the next one. "Get in, meat." He shoved the datapad into Shepard's chest hard enough to stagger her. For a second, he bristled ... expecting her to come at him, maybe?
Shepard just shook her head and cocked an eyebrow, quietly proud of herself for not feeling even the slightest anger. Instead, a oddly calming brew of pity and amusement turned her away. Trying to bully a tiny freelancer who wasn't even in armour … no wonder he'd been stuck out on driving duty. She sent her second team to the other car, then climbed in and just stared at the driver, a silent challenge to rise above his petty power crap.
He relented. The ride to Kima District passed quickly and silently, the driver staring determinedly straight ahead. She left him to his issues, spending the time running through the map in her head. The mission had to go quickly and smoothly. Need tied a tether to her … she smiled softly … to her C-Sec, pulling her on with greater insistence every second. Archangel's time slipped away all too quickly.
That morning's reports from Omega set the number of defenders down to four hundred and change. And while the mercs had lost five times as many, the odds weren't tipping in Archangel's favour quickly enough. Hopefully, she and her misfits could do something about that.
The last time she'd entered Kima District, the entire place stood deserted thanks to people abandoning the outer, uncontrolled reaches of the station for the relative safety of the areas where either Aria or the Blue Suns kept the peace … in their way. As Shepard climbed out of the car, bodies flowed around her like ants rebuilding a kicked over hive. Her heart clenched at the sound of gunfire … not as distant as she would have thought. The buildings carried sound very well. That would work in her favour, helping seed chaos through the ranks.
"Hey! New meat! Over here!" an asari called over the background roar. She lifted a hand and nodded, waving them over when Shepard looked her way. "Yeah, come on. We haven't got all day. The second wave launches in ninety minutes, and your worthless asses need to be ready to take point." She snatched the datapad from Shepard's hand, just as cranky as the driver, but impatient.
Eclipse really needed to either stop recruiting social morons or open an internal charm school. Shepard leaned on a hip, wondering absently how many recruits just turned around, deciding the rude-ass Eclipse could go straight to hell.
"That your gear?" the asari asked, jabbing her chin toward the duffels. Shepard nodded, letting all of her nervous excitement bleed through, her hands shaking as she took back the datapad. The asari took a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh that clearly told Shepard she'd gone through the spiel numerous times before.
"All right, pick up the duffels and hold them open," she said. When Jack and Shepard complied, she shuffled through the top layer. "Nice gear. You guys might last a minute or two." Grunting, she gestured for them to back off. "Welcome to the Eclipse FOB." She pointed toward the buildings across the wide avenue.
A group of Blue Suns stood along their side of the street, hollering insults across at the Eclipse, who gave back as good as they got. It sounded like good-natured ribbing but for a thread of real ugliness and hatred running beneath the surface. A line of ice-cold ants raced up Shepard's spine.
The lieutenant shrugged when Shepard looked back. "That's Blue Suns territory. Don't even look over that way. We're here to fight Archangel, not that arrogant bunch of SOB's. They're trying to pick fights—killed a couple of freelance meat who strayed too close. Their CO's ripped the shit out of them, so they're pissed. Don't give them a reason to shoot you before Archangel does."
Shepard glanced that way then nodded. Three major gangs and a dozen smaller ones all jammed into a couple of blocks … it didn't surprise her they were already trying to kill each other. "Understood, LT. Where do we report?" Glancing behind her, she raked her stare over the others, but they stood calmly at parade rest, looking as if they signed on to be bullet sponges every day of the week.
"Captain Burgess is assembling the vanguard forces straight down the street here." The asari pointed, drawing Shepard's attention down the road toward a bunch of loosely grouped people in mostly old, ragged-looking gear. "Gear up, rest, get plenty to drink, snack … especially if you're biotic, and be ready to go in ninety minutes. We're going to crush these traitor bastards into paste."
"Yes, ma'am." Giving the lieutenant a curt nod, Shepard led the others down the street. They had a hell of a lot to do in ninety minutes. Her people's true usefulness lay outside the lines, hitting large, grouped targets, sabotaging equipment, and hopefully turning the gangs on one another.
To do any of that, they needed to break up before they checked in with their Eclipse CO. Taking a deep breath, Shepard settled, flipping over into operative mode. She spotted a small, closed out shop with a broken window off to their left and nodded her people toward it. Keeping a look out, she waited until last to hop through into the dark, dingy room.
"Okay," she said, setting down her duffel and unzipping it. "Vincent, Jack, Javik … as discussed, you're heading up into the upper levels. Your whole job is to cause the biggest diversion possible, and take as many of the Suns out as you can … start a gang war if at all possible. We need to cut their numbers down as much as we can before we get across that bridge. Archangel's people have got to be exhausted. They've been fighting and watching their friends die for a day already. Let's make sure this ends in the next couple of hours."
Shepard dug into the duffel and pulled out her armour. She needed to suit up. Action time. A glance to the side revealed Jack doing the same despite grumbling about the armour.
Vincent set down another large, canvas bag. "Okay, so we got the chips you needed." He withdrew a small bag and set it down. "There are three hundred in there. I said I bought a pile of secondhand irrigation mechs." He pulled out a spool of wire. "One of the little surprises … Det cord … a lot of it. We could bring down a big chunk of property."
Shepard grinned as she stepped into her underlayer. "It should come in handy."
A wicked grin spread across the ex-Marine's face, accompanying the reveal of four fair-sized crates. "These are full of odds and ends. Just metal scrap from some sort of demo. We pack these things with explosives, deliver them into the middle of a staging area. We could take out a couple hundred in a single blow."
Liara winced and stepped forward. Her eyes shone dark with tightly reined in tears. "A bomb like that … ." She made a sad little sound in her throat.
Shepard shrugged the underlayer onto her shoulders then met the asari's horrified stare and nodded. "Yes, it is a brutal way to do this, Liara, but for the next few hours, we have to be brutal. There are six of us and thousands of them." She held the blue gaze with firm compassion. "Do you have friends in that building?" When the asari nodded, Shepard mirrored it. "Yeah, and they're so very tired right about now. They're hopped up on stims and hungry ... thirsty. They're standing over the bodies of their friends, knowing that they don't have very long before they can't fight back." She reached out and squeezed Liara's shoulder. "They might not know it, but they are counting on us to get them through."
Liara opened her mouth to talk, but Shepard cut her off. "There are six of us, Liara. That means we have to use every dirty trick we can." She stared at the asari, eyebrows raised.
"Good speech," someone said from the empty, front corner. "Very moving. Who are you?"
Shepard's heart jumped into her throat, wrapping strangling tentacles around everything it could grab hold of. Damn! Infiltrator! She snatched her pistol from the duffel. A chorus of whirrs and clicks accompanied six pistols training on their invisible interloper.
"Whoa! So jumpy. Relax, I'm on your side," the voice said, sounding more cocky than nervous.
Shepard closed her eyes, listening to follow the woman's movement around the room, her heart loosening its grip and starting to slide back down into place. "That remains to be seen. Who are you?"
"My name's not important. I'm Archangel's thief in residence, and for the last day, saboteur in residence."
Shepard grinned and lowered her pistol a little. "The Suns' gunships? Nice."
The voice chuckled. "Yes. Thank you. Always nice to have my work appreciated. The boss said, go blow up their gunships, so I did. Shame about those last three, but at least I grounded them for a while." A faint shimmer appeared, passing before the faint light at the window. "So, how can I help? You need to get some explosives into enemy territory?"
Instead of answering, Shepard held out her hand. "Captain Jane Shepard."
"I figured it was you." An invisible hand took hers in a strong, very tingly, and reassuring grip. "Kasumi Goto. Pleased to finally meet you, Captain. I've heard a lot about you." The hand released her. "Of course, most of that centered around you being dead."
Shepard chuckled, a thrill of excitement and joy adding strength to every breath, every thump of her heart. They'd spoken about her … all the people she'd left. "Yeah, that happened." She turned her head to show the massive scar along the base of her skull. "I got better." Setting her pistol down, she began sealing her armour into place. "You out here alone, Miss Goto?"
"No, the bosses would never allow that. My partner is keeping watch." Shepard heard her move to the window. "What's the plan?"
Miranda cleared her throat, but Shepard didn't acknowledge the reminder. She really didn't need the operative to tell her to be suspicious. Invisible people showing up with offers to help automatically went straight to the top of her suspicion list. Still, beggars couldn't really be choosers.
"How did you recognize me?" Shepard asked, sealing her girdle into place. Something told her that she could trust the thief, but still, Miranda's subtlety had the right of it, and the answer to her question might just settle the issue.
"Both of the big bossmen have your picture next to their beds," the thief said, laughing as the rest of the squad either chortled or choked. "And I saw you on Freedom's Progress. You were a little busy pulling our asses out of the fire, but it was you ... and the rest of you, too. Well, except the one over there. Smart move covering that head. What is he, anyway?"
Shepard nodded, holding up a hand to forestall any commentary from her people. "Okay, Miss Goto, I'm going to put my faith in you." She glanced over at Vincent. "Prep the bombs. Did you grab timers?" When he held them up, she winked. "I knew I could count on you." She took a deep breath. The bombs and the extra two, invisible bodies were a gift. She needed to use them well. "Do you know where these will do the most damage?" she asked, glancing toward the sound of quiet steps whispering through the dust.
"There are staging areas for both Blue Suns approaches," the thief replied. "And I'd like to take out the Blood Packs varren cages. Those things are tearing our people up. There's just too many and they soak up bullets like dog treats. Wrex's krogan have been charging them, but with the way the Blood Pack regenerate, it's a meat grinder down in those tunnels."
The genuine grief and concern in Goto's voice settled the last of Shepard's misgivings, the rumble in the captain's guts going quiet. She finished putting on her armour, then passed Jack the duffel. "Put all our little christmas presents in there. I don't feel good about them being stuffed in with the rocket launchers." She grinned when the biotic muttered something about not being completely hopeless or uncoordinated.
Picking up the bag of control chips, Shepard shoved them into her belt pouch with the ones she'd taken out of half the toys. She watched Javik helping pack explosives into the crates. Damn, with the amount they shoved in there, the shrapnel would take heads clean off.
"Come on, folks, we have … " She checked her chrono. "... just over an hour to be ready to move out with the vanguard. It's our ticket in there, and those mechs need to be hacked before we go." She paced, the dark, filthy room closing around her, the smell of the place working its way so deep into her sinuses that it began picking out drapes and measuring for carpets. Pungent … holy blessed Enkindlers, it was pungent enough to trigger her gag reflex if she thought about it long enough. It also triggered a strong sense of safety … which made no sense. But definitely safety, and connection. Yeah, the most wonderful feeling of connection.
"Done here, Shepard," Vincent announced, sealing the last crate. After zipping up the duffel, he turned to face … nothing. "This explosive is stable, so you don't have to worry about bumping it and blowing yourself up. Just set the crates down, activate the timer and walk away."
"I understand." The bag lifted from his hand, looking completely ridiculous for a moment before turning on its end and disappearing. "It's not going to be easy moving around with this thing, but … ." Boots thumped softly on the other side of the window. "Good luck. See you on the other side."
"And to you as well, Miss Goto." Shepard focused on her people. "Well, let's hope that makes everything a little easier." She held her hand out for the datapad. "We all wrapped up, here? You guys ready?"
Jack hefted the duffel of toys, her armour back in place. "Are you fucking kidding me? This is going to be hella fun." Coffee-brown eyes snapped and sparked with fierce joy as she cackled. "Blowing shit up … here I come."
Vincent and Javik settled their burdens over their shoulders, the former Marine stepping toward the exit as he said, "We'll get it done and meet you at the staging area in just under an hour, Shepard. Don't worry about us." He opened his omnitool and brought up the map of the area, focusing in on the building. He gave her an Alliance salute, and headed out.
"Okay ladies," Shepard sighed once the other three had headed out. "Let's go sabotage some mechs."
They made their way through the ranks of the Eclipse without anyone paying them the slightest bit of notice. It calmed some of Shepard's lingering nerves to see that they were just three more hunks of meat amidst the hundreds. If they weren't dressed in yellow, custom armour, they might as well be rocks. Thank the sweet baby Jesus, because they really needed to be rocks.
Shepard paused at a broken gate that had been dragged back out of the way. Something about it tweaked her memory, again. That and the place being full of troops. The last time she stood there, she'd dreamed about retreating to Omega, setting up shop, and preparing for the Reapers. They'd talked about it. That filled her with warmth. He—C-Sec—had taken up her dream, just as she'd suspected. And he was out there … a hundred metres or so away, fighting for his life.
"Shepard?" Miranda's hiss pulled Shepard back.
Focus for pity's sake, Janey. You can turn into a fourteen year old with her first crush once the mercs are all dead. Otherwise, you'll be reuniting with his corpse.
Nodding, she ducked through the smashed gate and then into cover between the warehouse where the mechs were stored and another building. She glanced at her chrono, then pulled the rocket launcher off her back. Hopefully the other team started—
Thunder boomed from the other end of the block. A million volts of exhilaration spiked straight down through Shepard, her hands and feet vibrating as the other team's handiwork set the street beneath her trembling. She raised the rocket launcher to her shoulder and sighted her target as carefully as if she wielded Ingrid, setting her up for a gold medal shot. Squeezing the trigger, three quick twitches, she sent a volley of rockets tearing through one of the command tents set up between buildings.
The fireball and resulting blast threw her on her ass, then concrete, poly sheeting, metal, and scrap pelted down like hail from hell.
"Pull back," she hissed, shoving the other two behind her as she retreated back to where the buildings clocked the worst of the debris. Hanging the rocket launcher back up, she watched chaos and fury erupt amidst the Blue Suns, a combination of satisfaction and regret fighting for dominance. The second team certainly held up their end of the plan as explosion after explosion rocked the ground, and the air filled with a truly choking amount of dust and smoke.
"Helmets on," she whispered, not taking her own advice as she crept back up toward the corner of the warehouse. Fires ripped through the Blue Suns camp, the fire suppression systems just adding to the chaos. Gun fire. She nodded. Good for them, the twitchy, suspicious bastards. "That's right, shoot the living crap out of one another, glory hallelujah and praise the great glowing asses of the Enkindlers," she whispered.
The large doors on the front of the warehouse cracked open, two salarians and an asari stepping out, looking around like voles popping their heads out of the ground for the first time. A squad of Blue Suns spotted them, and raced into the street shouting, blaming them for the explosion, regardless of their complete lack of weaponry. A moment and a few shots later, the three of them lay strewn in their own blood.
Shepard waved to Miranda and Liara, preparing to move as soon as the Blue Suns backed off. One of their commanders, a huge batarian, ran out of the far building, roaring at the top of his lungs, calling his scattered troops back into order.
As soon as backs were turned, Shepard sucked in a big breath and ran, slipping through the narrow opening in the door, then spinning around to push it closed. Liara and Miranda helped, then stepped back as Shepard locked the door. She didn't dare scramble the codes or anything that would raise suspicion.
Once it was secured, she turned to her squad. "Go do a quick sweep and check out the warehouse. Make sure no one is left. If someone is, take care of it." She pointed up. "The office is directly above us."
As the two women crept into the ranks of robots, Shepard took a deep, shaking breath and wished for Kasumi Goto's cloak. Infiltration … flying under the radar … had never exactly been her forte. She went in full bore, mowed them over with boisterous flare and sexuality and cocky swagger. Challenge them, piss them off, make them slip up. That was her MO. All flash and misdirection. Sneaking … she sucked at sneaking.
Closing her eyes, she lifted a hand to turn up the ambient on her aural implants, listening for footsteps, voices … any sign. She took deep, slow breaths, focusing on keeping her heartbeat slow and steady while she flexed her hands. A vid played in the office above her, and Liara and Miranda tiptoed across the top of the room … but no one moved out on the floor. Three guards for a nearly a billion credits worth of mechs? Did it stem from supreme overconfidence? Maybe when one had the enemy trapped behind a thousand troops and five hundred mechs, maybe someone sneaking in to sabotage them ceased to be a concern.
Until today.
Shepard nodded, and headed toward the neat lines of mechs. Most of the YMIRs crouched in antigrav lifts, ready to be dropped at the head of the second wave. Without hesitating, Shepard activated her omnitool and cracked open the control panel. It took only a few seconds to remove the original remote command chip and install her own. She popped the panel back on, then paused, listening.
Gunfire resounded everywhere. She could hear voices shouting amidst the chaos, trying to restore order, but then another series of explosions rattled the warehouse windows, chaos winning over reason for at least a few more moments. She moved on to the lift.
"The warehouse is clear, Shepard," Miranda reported as they returned.
"Good. Watch me do this one, then you two can finish the rest while I sabotage the smaller mechs." Sealing the nervous energy trying to make her hands shake behind a wall of professional pride, Shepard showed the other two how to replace the chips in the mechs and their lifts. Once she watched them replace one on their own, she headed to the back of the warehouse.
She didn't have enough chips to mess up the IFF on all the smaller mechs, but three hundred running rampant through the Suns' and Eclipse camps could do a lot of damage. She crouched next to her first target and popped the cover.
Focusing on the work to the exclusion of all else, Shepard moved quickly down the line of FENRIS then LOKI mechs.
"Done, Shepard," Liara called softly from across the floor.
"Excellent. Go listen at the door and let me know when the fighting dies down enough to move out." The explosions had stopped, hopefully because Vincent's team had run out of toys and headed for the staging area, rather than because they'd been caught or killed. Giving that fear a hard shove, she concentrated back on her work. By the time she finished, she could hear that the fighting had died down to a low roar. The voices of reason, berating both sides, asserted control.
"We need to move, Shepard," Miranda called. "It should be safe, and we've got minutes to report in."
Letting out a long, slow sigh, Shepard straightened and jogged across the floor, weaving between the powered down robots. Hopefully the mechs gave them enough of an advantage. If they didn't … . She shook her head and packed that fear down with the rest of them. No, she needed to believe in the plan. It would work.
Pushing between Liara and Miranda, she unlocked the door, then nodded for them to pull it open a crack. She peered out into an entirely new district. Smoke and dust rolled down the street and billowed up to gather against the ceiling high above. Debris ranging in size from skycars to gravel lay everywhere, and amidst it all … bodies.
Holy blessed sweet baby Jesus … the bodies. She squeezed her shoulder into the crack and shoved until she could wriggle through. Despite the speech she'd given Liara, and believing it completely, the horror of that street … . It shook her to the marrow in her bones.
"Dear God," Miranda whispered, the words a faint hiss between clenched teeth. "We struck the match in a hell of a powder keg."
Shepard just nodded and struck out for the far end of the street, sticking close to the side of the building. The thick, choking air should help hide them, at least. Digging into her belt pouch, she pulled out a handkerchief and held it over her nose and mouth rather than putting on her helmet. She hated the damned thing, felt blind and deaf wearing it, and for the next while, she needed to be able to see and hear.
A cool breeze of relief rippled through the smoke and coaxed a smile onto her face when she saw her people standing amidst the nervous, milling gathering of recruits. When they spotted her, they hurried over, taking up positions behind her.
"How many do you think?" she asked Vincent, the nausea and sorrow swirling around in her guts adding a phlegmy, nasal thickness to the inquiry. If the number came in under five or six hundred, she'd be shocked.
He shrugged, a tight pop of his shoulders followed by a long sigh. "Don't know, but rumours say as few as three hundred Eclipse and as many as seven hundred Suns, so the truth is probably in the middle somewhere."
Shepard stumbled, her guts lurching hard enough that for a second, she clamped a hand over her mouth. Been a long time since she'd had to massacre a couple thousand people, the callouses had peeled off.
"Hey! Meat! Over here before you lose your guts," a human male called. The man raised a hand, waving them over, his fingers crooking toward his palm. "Don't throw up on me, little one," he said, his voice grinding like tracks over gravel, and took the datapad from her hand. He read it, then looked them over. "I'm Captain Burgess, your CO for this mission. You lot look fairly competent, you'll cover the heavy mech drop." He jerked a head off to his right. "Go stand out of the way, check your weapons. We'll be heading out once the CO's figure out this fucking cock up." He jutted his chin toward the carnage.
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Shepard herded her ducklings off to one side and into a small custer. "Okay, we seem to be set." She closed her eyes and rolled her neck, as much impatience as relief greeting the end of their preparations. Forcing herself to face the consequences of her plan, she looked up at that rocket-riddled building across the street, and wondered how Kasumi Goto fared. None of the explosions had been big enough to have been caused by the crate bombs.
"Listen up!" a salarian called from the end of the street. "The second wave goes ahead. Mech support team form up at the gate. Stay behind the barricade, and keep your heads down. Archangel's snipers are taking off any head that shows up in their sights." He looked past them to the human and nodded.
"All right, meat, move it out." Burgess hopped down off the crate he'd been using as a podium and strode past them. A single finger beckoned to Shepard as he passed her. "Short stack, you and your people with me."
Shepard bit back a chuckle, but then caught a glimpse at the expressions on Vincent and Jack and shook her head. They'd get their chance to do all sorts of clobbering soon enough. She reached behind her shoulder to grab her Mattock, settling it easily in her hand. It still wasn't Roger, but it would put bullets in the enemy with satisfying efficiency.
They passed through the broken gate, crouching as they pushed forward through the smoke. If Archangel had thermal scopes, and she'd put a great deal of money on that, they needed to stay low. Then the barricade loomed ahead of them, three times as tall as she was and built to be hard to climb. They'd all be lucky to make it over the top without bullets through their skulls.
Excitement began to override the fear. Her life awaited her … her old life … Anderson, Sparky … the Normandy … and him … them … whatever. It all sat so very close … almost within her grasp. White hot coals of longing burned in her chest, the ache spreading to warm her all the way to her toes.
Climbing the barricade, she picked her way up high enough to peek over. A bridge spanned a long drop into more bridges and then other blocks of buildings lower down. Ahead of her, Archangel had turned the bridge into an obstacle course designed to slow down the mechs. She looked past, straining to see through the smoke. A small cluster of buildings stood on the other side, one ahead of the others, centered with its front door at the bridge.
"Wait a second," she muttered, a slow scowl furrowing her brow, drawing it down low over her eyes. "I … ." She stared up at the buildings for a second, then popped up, forgetting completely about keeping behind cover. "What the fuck? I own those buildings!"
(End A-N: So close. Monday, I hope. I really want to get back to Monday and Thursday updates. I think you can see why this one was a day late. LOL So much to this siege versus the game. Anyway, thanks as always to those who read and to those who check in and say hi. *hugs* Onward and upward!)