Her omni-tool kept ringing, but no one picked up on the other side. Where was Kaidan? He hadn't replied back to her message from an hour ago, which asked him to call her back as soon as humanly possible. Shepard pressed the button to end the call with a huff of disappointment. She looked down and saw her clothes, now dry and stained with burgundy splotches. Her stomach started to roll, and she pulled off everything as fast as she could. Shepard stumbled to the bathroom, almost tripping on her carelessly tossed boots, and turned on the shower. She didn't even twist the knob for hot water, choosing to stand under the cold stream, scrubbing off any remnants of the day. She reached for a washcloth and rubbed at her skin until it was red and raw. Despite the goosebumps covering her, Shepard remained there, pressing her forehead against the cool tile and squeezing her eyes shut.
Back on the Normandy, showers had been the perfect way for her to decompress and think over things. Now was no different. She began to feel relief as her muddled emotions became contained by the master plan she was forming in her head, like always. Everything's always better with a plan.
Step one: See if "authorities" know what's up.
Step two: If "authorities" don't know, or are otherwise incompetent, which is likely, consult Liara.
Step three: If Liara knows, go after the bad guys yourself.
Step four: Call up Kaidan and everyone else who can help go take them down.
Step five: Get them.
Shepard wasn't too sure what came after step five: murder or capture? Like most of the important decisions she had made in her life, she'd go with her first instinct when it was time.
She shut off the water and quickly wrapped herself up in a towel. There was no time to waste, and she had business to attend to.
The Alliance wouldn't tell her anything. In fact, they had questioned her further about what happened earlier, but didn't reveal anything to her. Too close to the case, they said. Which was, of course, true, but Shepard didn't save the galaxy by playing by the rules.
Luckily, the Shadow Broker always knows everything, or at least something. Liara was clearly distraught, rawness evident in her voice. She had, however, quickly sent out feelers to try to pick up any clues as to who had killed Joker. A source within the Alliance told her that they had in fact found some clues. The murder weapon had been lying out on the top of a nearby building, right where the assassin had left it. A Batarian State Arms Lighting Strike sniper rifle. Anyone could have been using the weapon, but this particular one had a military serial number that traced back to an ex-soldier who had joined the Bahak Remembrance Movement. The Bahak Remembrance Movement was a terrorist organization, the largest of several small batarian groups on Earth who were trying to kill Shepard and punish the Alliance. Liara was aware of where their central cell was located, and it was conveniently within the city.
"But why leave the weapon behind?" Shepard asked herself.
"You're right, I doubt it was unintentional. There was time to clean up the scene," Liara responded, also lost in thought.
"Maybe someone's staging it to look like the BRM?"
"But why?"
"I'm not sure," Shepard sighed.
"Perhaps they're sending a sign. They want people to know that they are after you and you will not have peace," Liara paused, and Shepard picked up on some clicking sounds in the background. "It seems they posted a propaganda vid yesterday about Bahak, the evils you committed, and how they are going to obtain justice by destroying you."
"They upload vids like that all of the time. And not just them."
"That is true, but this is a start, and everything so far is pointing to the Bahak Remembrance Movement."
"Then that's who we'll go see. What was that address again?"
"You can't - you can't be serious! There's an official investigation going on."
"I'm afraid they won't go after these guys. There's too much heat about Bahak still; they can't have batarians getting even more pissed and starting an actual war. Not even for Joker, maybe."
"You're not supposed to be in the field."
"Not Alliance anymore, not even a Spectre. My call."
"Shepard. Don't," Liara pleaded.
"It's okay. You don't have to go with me if you don't want to."
"I'm still working on leads for the bombing and for this..."
"I know. Don't worry. I'll see who else can go with me."
"Joker would not approve."
A punch dealt to her stomach. "I'm not sure about that. He always loved going in with guns blazing."
"I suppose so." Liara sounded doubtful.
And after an awkward goodbye, the two hung up.
Options for squadmates on this mission of Shepard's were limited. Liara was occupied and not exactly supportive. Miranda wasn't around, and Shepard didn't want to explain why she needed her; Miranda certainly wouldn't approve of her "exerting" herself in that manner. Jack was busy with her job and didn't want to put it in jeopardy. Vega was at training, though he was going to try to get leave for the funeral. All of them were torn up by the news about Joker and were worried about her, but none wanted to take action. Wait, they said.
And where was Kaidan anyway? Night had fallen, and still no responses on her omni-tool. Shepard decided to call his parents' house phone, hoping that he'd actually be there. It rung and rung, and right when she thought about hanging up, the call connected. After a moment of a static, up popped the video feed, but she wasn't looking at Kaidan. There was a woman on the other line, Shepard's age or a little older. A very pretty woman wearing a chunky sweater like the ones Kaidan liked to wear. Shepard blanked. Who was this?
"Hello?"
Shepard realized that a few seconds had passed, and the woman was trying to get her attention. Shepard could see that she was sitting in the quaint kitchen where Kaidan had occasionally called from.
"Sorry, yes, hi, I'm here!" she sputtered.
"Is that you, Commander Shepard? Wow, a living legend!" The woman smiled.
"Ha. I guess. That's me," Shepard joked lamely. "Umm… is Major Kaidan Alenko around?"
"Oh, Kaidan? He's not."
"Do you know when he'll be back?"
"Not sure. Do you want me to take a message?"
"I suppose," Shepard sighed.
An older man briefly appeared in the background. The woman turned around to say something to him, but it was inaudible. The man disappeared out of the frame, but not before Shepard was able to piece it together.
"Is that Kaidan's dad?"
The woman nodded. "Yeah, that's Frank."
"He found him." Shepard's mouth hung agape despite her best efforts to reel it in.
"Mmm hmm, 'bout a week or two ago."
"A week ago? I hadn't heard." Shepard was even more taken aback. Kaidan hadn't told her. She thought he had been keeping her in the loop. "Sorry, but I don't know you… who are you?"
"Me? I'm Michaela, Kaidan's friend."
"Okay, hi Michaela. Didn't mean to be rude. So you're helping out at their house or something?"
"Well, I moved in a few weeks ago, but I've been helping for a while." Michaela's voice dipped lower. "You know, keeping an eye on Frank. He's been having a hard time with what happened to Kaidan's mom."
"What happened?"
"Oh- I hadn't realized- she's gone. She was killed. Left with some others from the town to seek shelter out in a more rural area during the war. Apparently, they were intercepted by a group of Reaper forces. She didn't make it. Frank went out there as soon as he could and came across a couple of survivors. They told him what happened, and he's been out there in the mountains with them since."
Stunned into silence, Shepard put her face in her hands. Kaidan's mom was dead. Kaidan had found his dad. She couldn't imagine what he was going through. The news about Joker would just be throwing more gasoline on the fire. Her heart broke for him.
At the same time, why hadn't he been telling her these things?
"Well, thanks for the update, Michaela." Shepard removed her hands from her face and put on a polite smile.
"Of course." Michaela stood up and went to reach over toward the screen. The bottom of her sweater became visible, and Shepard discovered that she was wearing Kaidan's favorite sweater, the one with the pattern of stags in black at the bottom. Her smile quickly faded into a slight frown.
"I like your sweater?"
"Thanks!"
Shepard quirked an eyebrow, but said no more. A moment of silence passed.
"You wanted to leave a message, Commander?"
"Actually, that's alright. Fine without one."
"Alright, have a good night."
"You too."
The vid screen went to black, but Shepard kept staring ahead. What had just happened?
Angry. Hurt. Confused. Worried. Jealous?
"Fuck, fuck," Shepard groaned. She impulsively kicked her desk, the strength of her bionic leg managing to knock her lamp off of it. "Fuck!"
Breathe in, breathe out. Stick to the plan.
She could raid the cell by herself, but Shepard was smart enough to know that she wouldn't make it out alive. Not these days. But she had an idea of someone who might be able to help her out, and maybe together they wouldn't end up in body bags.
A phone call had confirmed what she was hoping for, and now it was time for prep. They'd be going tonight, which was technically early tomorrow morning. Shepard was afraid that if they waited any longer, Liara or someone else would try to stop her. Or maybe the Alliance would grow a pair in this peaceful, post-Reaper world and go muck things up. Of course, she hadn't slept since Joker had died, but time was of the essence.
Strolling through her local megastore, Shepard picked up several items she might need. She spent a few minutes at a display of duct tape. Basic gray-silver seemed to be the most appropriate option for taking hostages, but the lime green with ladybugs was way more fun. In the cart it went, and Shepard headed toward the cashier before abruptly turning the cart around. Now she pushed down the hair care aisle, her fingers gliding over the boxes.
At first, Shepard had almost selected another color. One hand picked up a pitch-black hue, the other grabbed a cobalt blue. In the end, she wanted the enemy to realize who they were effing with, so she tossed into the cart the familiar red dye she had worn for years before the end of the war.
The little old lady at the register gave her a stare over the top of her glasses as she rang up the items, her fumbling fingers pausing their work to accept Shepard's payment. "Back, Commander?"
Shepard didn't reply, but thanked her as she handed her the bag of goodies. Having paid and checked off her shopping list, she made her way back into the night with the bag pressed to her chest. As soon as she was out of the doors and alone, she pulled out the box of red dye and examined it. With a deep exhale of breath, she said to no one, "I'm back."