"Of course I'll help you. Give me word when you've picked up his trail, and we'll hunt him down together."
Garrus apprised him with a thankful nod before taking another sip of his beer. They were lounging on the small sofa in John's cabin, the last hours or so having gone by with Garrus finally sharing the details of his exploits on Omega – including their unfortunate end, including the role his right hand man Sidonis had played in it. For the most part, John had simply listened and nodded along; sometimes, there really wasn't much to say. He certainly understood even better now what had been chewing at Garrus ever since he'd come aboard – losing people was bad enough, especially if you were the sole survivor, as John knew all too well. But to have it all brought down on you by betrayal? From your most trusted friend, too? For once, there was something John hadn't experienced yet, but he had little trouble imagining how badly it had to sting.
Silence settled in for a minute, the heavy subject matter of the last hour hanging in the atmosphere of the room like a dark cloud. Eventually John broke it, hoping to find some relief in a lighter topic.
"So. What do you think about Grunt?"
Garrus snorted. "He's mad, so much is certain. Might be just the right mindset for this mission, though."
"You've got a point there...he's no Wrex, that's for sure. And I'm not talking about the biotics, but I don't think he needs those anyway."
"No, he definitely, doesn't." , the Turian agreed, shaking his head. "He's already a loose cannon, do you want to turn him into a loose nuke?"
Now John found himself chuckling as well.
"Have you seen him body those Varren?", Garrus continued. They had responded to a distress call yesterday, taking them half a day off course but allowing them to interrupt a Krogan pirate raid on an Ajomi Syndicate freighter – an excursion that had both served as a valuable opportunity to let the team, especially Grunt, fight together, and turned out to pay for itself quite nicely, the terrified Captain seeming just as afraid of them as he'd been of the pirates, and quite eager to make his gratitude material. "He can fight. Only thing he needs is a bit of reigning in, and some sense knocked into that baby brain of his."
John nodded and drank, the memory of his near death experience when they'd gotten the big guy out of his tank still fresh in his mind. Enhanced skeleton and musculature or not, he had no doubts that Grunt could've crushed his larynx like a raw egg if he'd wanted to, and there'd been nothing he could've done about it other than making sure to take the Krogan with him before he expired. Speak softly, and carry a big handgun.
"It's certainly an unorthodox team." he said out loud, " But so was the squad two years ago. Coordination in the field is coming together nicely, and we've got some specialists with us that open up possibilities we didn't use to have. Tomorrow is going to be difficult enough. If we didn't have Kasumi, I think I wouldn't think it'd be worth the risk."
Garrus gave him a strange look. "You're sounding almost enthusiastic."
"Far from it,", John shrugged. "But what the hell can I do, except focus on the mission and the team?"
The Turian shrugged. "True, I suppose." He turned his gaze to observe the fish in their tank at the far wall. "You know they're going to throw you to the wolves for this, right?"
He grimaced. "Yes, I know full well. And now please shut up about it, I had just managed to forget it for a second."
"Sorry."
John took a big gulp of his beer. "Ah, forget it. Didn't mean to snap like that. It's just...it's exactly like you say. They'll have my head for this, sooner or later. Or at least they'll try."
The Turian raised a browplate. "You think the council is actually going to send someone after you?"
"Hm. Not as long as I can keep under the radar, I think. But once the cat is out of the bag...the arrangement was clear, they'll swear up and down they never knew a thing. Actually true, as far as this " , he waved the bottle around the room, " is concerned. Should be only a matter of time from there on out." He fixed his eyes on Garrus' face. "Things might not end much better for you either, come to think of it."
His friend let his gaze drop to the table. " Doesn't matter. We have no choice." After a moment of uneasy silence, he flared his mandible and forced some humor into his voice. "At least we'll get to deliver the greatest 'told you so' ever when the Reapers get here, if that's any consolation to you."
"Not really."
"Yeah, me neither."
Garrus sighed. "Listen. Shepard...are you sure you want me leaving the second team tomorrow?"
John looked at the Turian in puzzlement. He hadn't looked or acted particularly happy before, but right now he looked, for lack of a better word, defeated, and John felt like was beginning to understand that there was something gnawing at his friend's soul that he hadn't realized before. He straightened and put the beer away.
"Stop that shit right now." Garrus looked up, mild surprise on his face. "Garrus, I'm not gonna be the asshole sitting here trying to tell you that something like what happened back there doesn't mean anything. But it certainly doesn't mean that you're suddenly not a good leader anymore."
The Turian looked past him, his mandible pressed to the side of his face and his voice low. "My most trusted man sold me out, and now my entire team is dead because of it. If that doesn't tell you everything you need to know about what the hell I know..." He shook his head.
"That's different. That's something personal. Perhaps you really were too naive, perhaps you were not. Maybe you'll never know. But that has nothing to do with your tactical abilities. Who would you rather have leading the second team, hm?"
Garrus shrugged. "What about Miranda, she's competent enough."
"She's an intelligence officer.", John shot the answer down. "She's good at what she does, and she can fight like hell. Perhaps she really would do a decent job of it. But decent isn't enough. We'll be up against a well equipped, trained and disciplined enemy. I need someone who actually knows what they're doing, because they've done it before."
"Jacob then. He's led men into combat before."
John took a sip of his beer and nodded, conceding the point. "He has. And I'm sure he's good. But he didn't storm Illos with me, or the bloody council chamber."
"You don't trust him because he's not your friend?"
"Actually, I do trust him. He's just a useful idiot to Cerberus, and after the things I told him about them, I think he's beginning to get that. When push comes to shove, he'll be on our side, mark my words." John emptied the can. "No, what I mean is that I haven't worked with him like that before. I haven't seen him lead people. And more importantly, he's simply not as good as you are. Not as good a shot, hasn't got your instinct. Damn good man, sure. But you're better. " He grabbed a firm hold of Garrus shoulder. "I know what you can do, I've seen it first hand. And then you went and made the Omega gang's life hell for two years. With no support and twelve damn people under your command!"
John got up and walked a couple steps, coming to stand in front of the fishes. "Garrus. I know how you feel, trust me. And I know that this kind of thing can eat you up if you let it." He turned around. "We're nipping this in the bud now. You're leading second team tomorrow, and you're gonna nail it."
The Turian looked at him for a long moment, John unable to distinguish if he'd succeeded in restoring his friend's resolve or not. "Alright, Shepard."
Grunt stood up and let out a frustrated growl. The various crates and boxes in his room were simply inadequate; most of them were empty, and he did not have enough space. He would never be able to accurately reenact the battle of Grashnarz like this. He needed...more. Turning around, he let his eyes wonder over the main cargo bay, and they lit up. Now that was a lot of boxes...with renewed purpose, he opened his door and made his way to the elevator. The human engineer, Donelly or something, practically jumped out of his way. He grinned to himself. The man was tiny, he wouldn't touch him even if he hadn't been protected by being part of Shepard's clan. Only pyjaks picked on those weaker than themselves. It was what a weakling would do, and, more importantly, boring.
But the tiny man didn't need to know that.
Stepping out of the elevator one deck lower, he began to take stock of his assets. The cargo crates themselves were obviously too big to serve as anything but perhaps the southern mountain range that had trapped Falerius's battalion and forced them to make a stand against Warlord Garbun. So he opened them up, one by one. This one held replacement parts...too unique, he needed something standardized to symbolize the different unit types...perhaps something like...
"May I perhaps help you find something, Grunt? I am aware of the exact contents of all 47 containers in this room. "
He turned around to the source of the computer generated voice. The blue orb of the AI, what was the name again...EDI, yes...floated above a holo terminal some meters behind him. The tank...Okeer's imprints had told him that artificial intelligences were not to be trusted...but this offer did sound helpful. There was no way the thing could possibly use this situation to kill him. And Okeer had been an idiot anyway.
"I want to reenact the battle of Grashnarz. I'm looking for something small, and I need lots of it...the more the better. I need something to symbolize artillery,infantry and tanks, both for the Turians and for my people."
"My suggestion would be utilizing ration packs. There are enough different sizes and kinds to represent the battle with an accuracy reminiscent of the strategical animations used in the episode of Warriors and Generals through the ages that deals with this battle. Cargo container A4B holds levo rations, A5C holds dextro. The opposing sides could be made easily distinguishable by having the Turians be symbolized by dextro rations and the Krogans by levo rations. Or vice versa."
"You watch Warriors and Generals ?"
"Yes. On average, I consume 2034 hours of entertainment per day."
"Why?"
"I am trying to improve my understanding of organics. To that end, among other things, I consume their media, especially media which is favored by my crew, as my crew takes priority among organics, therefore understanding my crew in particular is more important than understanding organics in general. That is the reason why I consumed all 27 so far released seasons of Warriors and Generals through the ages yesterday."
"Why?"
"You are my newest crew member. I am trying to understand you. The percentage of time since your awakening that you have spent watching this documentary series indicates that it holds meaning to you."
"Hm. Fine. Just don't spoiler me."
"I do not intend to spoil Warriors and Generals through the ages for you, Grunt."
"Good. And, uh...thanks, I guess?"
"I am happy to be of service."
The deck shuddered under her feet, and Kasumi swiftly stepped into the nook of an emergency bulkhead. Sudden movements had a tendency to disrupt the cloaking field, and so one had to know when to supplement the device's impressive effects with more conventional means of stealth in order to avoid detection.
What are they doing up there?
She knew the broad strokes, of course; Garrus and Shepard were leading two strike teams into the bowels of the Purgatory, intent simply to cause as much mayhem and distraction as possible while she got on with the actual objective. Kasumi just hadn't imagined they'd be quite this effective at it – but then again, she hadn't always paid full attention to those parts of the plan that didn't affect her directly. She'd initially tried to follow the explanation of the void assault that had taken out the prison ships escort detail, but when she'd noticed that even Shepard was essentially just nodding and occasionally making approving noises, she'd given up. Three dimensional combat wasn't for her, she'd decided.
Kasumi waited for a gaggle of armed Blue Suns to hurry by, using the time to bring up the ship's schematics on her left ocular implant. She was on the right track still. Reassured, she left her refuge and walked down the corridor as fast as was possible without making a sound. She made it past one cell after another, most of their inhabitants visibly agitated – if that was because of the commotion or if they were simply deranged, Kasumi didn't want to guess in a place like this. Half of them were just screaming obscenities like a bunch of broken records.
If everybody here is like this, maybe we'd better leave that Jack person right here where they fit in.
The thought was a waste of mental energy of course; she was here to do a job, not to argue about it, and in any event it was far too late for that now. She just hoped Shep knew what he was doing – but as far as Kasumi could tell by now, he probably did.
A couple more minutes took her to the cell block she'd been aiming for, the comms chatter of the ongoing skirmish in her ear; Kasumi wasn't much of a soldier, but she was getting the impression that the going was getting tougher by the minute. Still, when she finally entered the control center, finding it guarded by a single human Blue Sun, his helmet off and smoking a cigarette, Kasumi found herself hesitating.
She realized that she was going to have to murder this man.
Kasumi had killed before, sure, but it had always been in the rush of a desperate flight away from heavily armed henchmen of whatever rich art hoarder she'd liberated a piece from this time, or lately under Shepard, in the heat of battles the likes of which she'd never expected to be anywhere near to in her life. This was going to be different. She was going to kill an unsuspecting man who was no threat to her whatsoever – or at least she was supposed to.
Kasumi found that she wasn't sure at all that she could actually do this.
In that moment she flinched, spooked by Garrus barking something in her ear. They're getting shot at up there, and I've been standing here for a minute already.
Kasumi snuck up on the guard from behind and seized his head, trying to hold his mouth shut as she slid the knife into his neck like Shepard had showed her. She failed; he yanked her petite hand away violently and his pained scream filled the room for the instance before she yanked the knife deeper and pulled it forward, severing the artery in a spray of blood. The feel of the weapon in her hand as it cut through muscle, fat and fibers was beyond sickening. As he dropped, so did the knife, Kasumi letting go of it and turning away when her last meal forced its way back out and onto the bare metal floor.
She retched again, propping herself up on her knees. There was blood on her hands, and she stared at it; finally, the danger of her situation broke her out of the stupor and she whirled around, pulling her pistol from it's holster at her hip.
She was still alone in the room.
Muttering curses under her breath, Kasumi put the gun down on the control panel and began her work; which meant locking the access points first. The system complied immediately, the door behind her making a reassuring click as heavy metal clamps gripped down on the the opening slit. Looks like the Suns are really keen on keeping the convicts here confined. Works both ways.
Relaxing a bit, Kasumi made her way through the block's system, quickly discovering that this wasn't as much a block as it was one single, oversized cell. The inhabitant of which was currently in stasis and had been for the last four months. She shuddered, getting more and more convinced that she had absolutely no wish to meet this person. But needs must. Kasumi opened the heavy steel shutters that laid over the rooms singular, large window, and got her first look into the actual cell. It was a mid sized room, the stasis container set up on a table in the middle of a room like a coffin. With a sigh and not inconsiderable trepidation, she powered down the biotic dampening field, shut off the stasis generator and initiated the waking process.
It went surprisingly brief, only some moments passing by before the container's seals broke with a hiss of gushing air. Slowly, it's heavy top parted and the two halves retracted towards the sites, affording Kasumi her first view of the reason they'd come here.
Jack was a small, scrawny thing, and she looked exactly like the type of person who was painfully aware of it. Her whole body seemed to be covered in tattoos – and there was a lot of bare skin to display them on. In fact, the only piece of clothing on her upper body, if one wanted to honor it with such an euphemism, was constituted by a coupe of leather straps which barely covered the area around her nipples, with a strap around her neck to hold the whole thing up. The woman's head was almost bare shaven, and her face...even asleep it displayed a faint sneer, and it twisted into a grimace of rage barely a second after she opened her eyes. A moment later, biotic energies were trashing through the room and shaking the walls.
The third blow impacted the control center itself, putting a dent into the massive console. Fortunately, Kasumi had reacted swiftly and jumped to a comparatively safe distance in time.
"Stop!Are you mad?"
"I'll show you mad, bitch! Get down here, or I'll come up!"
Coming to the sobering conclusion that Jack was about as charming as she'd feared, Kasumi risked stepping to the window. Perhaps the madwoman would somewhat calm down when face to face.
"I am not your enemy! What do you think who let you out!?"
Jack paused, her features relaxing a little. Eventually, the azure energy that had enveloped her hands and lower arms died down, as did her heavy breathing.
"Fine." She spoke with an almost disinterested calm now, so much so that Kasumi would have laughed at how obviously forced it was if the person she was talking to hadn't been a highly dangerous biotic. "What the hell do you want?"
"I want nothing from you, my boss does. He wants to hire you."
Jack scoffed. "What, and so he sent you to get me out of goddamn Purgatory? Seems like a hell of an effort for one woman. Even me."
So she has a brain after all.
"Well, he wants the best, and apparently the best biotic there is-"
She was interrupted by the sound of an enormous explosion somewhere making the ship itself shake to the point that both women momentarily struggled to remain of their feet. Not having paid attention to the comms chatter in a while, she patched herself into the tactical net, Jack forgotten for now. "Boys!What the hell's going on?"
Out in the corridor, sirens started blaring and, judging by the noises, the inmates were getting even more agitated then usual. After a second, a breathless Shepard gave her her answer. "Garrus just blew up cell block G. What's your status?"
"I've got Jack on her feet. Still need to convince her to come with me, though."
"Better be quick about it, then. Ship might be going down."
Realizing just how fucked the situation had become, Kasumi could feel a tight knot of ice forming in her stomach. There wasn't much time for introspection though, because she was soon interrupted by the woman in question.
"Hey, I'm right here! The fuck are you talking to? What's going on!?"
"I was talking to my boss," Kasumi answered, failing to suppress and exasperated sigh, " and he told me that this ship's probably going to explode in the next hour. So, are you coming or what!?"
Some exaggeration had never hurt anyone, after all. And sure enough, with a frown and a huff, Jack eventually got walking towards the stairs and door connecting the cell and the control room. "Whatever, anything's better than here. Now let me out already."