Chapter 8! Enjoy!
Everything in this fanfic is owned by Bioware. No copyright infringement intended.
The Cerberus agent walked around the airless cabin of his destroyed ship. The on-board VI had notified him of the state it was in and how to fix it, so he knew where to go. The damage had been substantial, but if he could salvage materials from the frigate that had crashed into them, he'd be able to connect the hull and restore most of the systems necessary for sub-light travel to the nearest Relay and survive the jump. The hull thudded every so often from shrapnel impacting it, sending vibrations up his boots all the way to his helmet, but aside from that and the VI's guidance towards the other vessel, everything was dead silent.
"How did that ship make it past our shields?" he thought to himself.
His mission was a relatively simple affair: search for any of the late Commander Shepard's personal belongings which could've remained on the Normandy. With his crew of ten, he'd have been done with the job in a matter of hours and have been back the Lazarus station by the end of the standard day. If only he hadn't made the mistake of ignoring the unknown frigate… In retrospect, he should have been more wary of the scavengers, but no one could've predicted they would commit suicide just to disable his ship. Then again, hindsight is 20/20, as they always say.
He walked out into space and realized Alchera was closer than he thought. The Ice planet covered his whole field of view if he looked down towards it, going so far as to dim the stars close to the horizon. The white light reflecting off the planet shone on the wreckage in front of him, giving it the eerie black-and-white look of an old human vid where astronauts travelled within the sol-system to Jupiter. Now was not the time to reminisce anyway, so he got to cutting off plates of hull with his plasma-cutter.
The rumbling of the hull came through his boots once again. It felt like a larger piece of wreckage impacted the other side of the ship, but the VI didn't mention anything. "What just happened, Eames?"
The VI responded after a few seconds, "My surveillance systems are down, but the hull was not compromised by that impact."
The agent quickly dismissed the vibrations and continued cutting through the hull when something impacted his back and a beeping seeped through the back of his armour. A radio attempted to connect to his omnitool but before he could even turn around, the channel request bypassed his security measures and transmitted to his helmet.
"There's a remote detonation grenade on your back. Turn around slowly."
The agent did as the distorted voice said and turned to face a man in dark grey armour with a blackened visor. He let go of the plasma torch and let it float near his hand, hoping the man wasn't paying attention.
"Follow me. Leave the torch. Not like it's going anywhere."
The agent obeyed and followed the man, cursing the fact that he had acknowledged the torch. It was extremely strange to watch the man walk backwards on thee hull, as he managed to stay away from any damage done to the hull behind him. They reached the section of the ship right outside the cargo hold, away from any of the ship's systems when the man expanded a shotgun from the small of his back and let go of the detonator to the agent's grenade, letting it float between them.
"Alright, so I'm gonna ask questions, and you're gonna answer," the nervousness was the first thing the agent noticed in the man's voice. This guy's an amateur, he thought to himself as he smiled behind the metal jaw protector on his helmet, not letting his eyes show his confidence.
The agent nodded and the man continued, "What were you going to do here in Alchera?"
"We were going to mine the water for tritium, uncharted territory means no tax," he lied in a practiced manner. He kept the urge to use sarcasm out of his sentence, but deliberately sounded annoyed.
The man shook his helmet before pointing his shotgun at the agent's chest. His voice sounded squeaky and uncertain even through the distortion, "You're lying, I know you are!"
"What's the point of the questions if you know the answers, dipshit? Focus on the important things: this vessel is going to fall into the atmosphere any second," he thought of a way to defuse the man, taking a gamble on his gullibility, "We have to get this ship back together or we're not getting out of here! Do you wanna die?"
The man's attitude suddenly changed and he stood up straight before muttering, "Alright, I'm bored."
In complete silence, the man's shotgun tightened and spat out a wide cone of projectiles, impacting on the agent's feet. The boots shattered and a second shot obliterated the flesh, making the agent begin to float, clutching at his stumps, screaming. The man walked up and covered the stumps in omnigel that stung at the wounds before slamming the agent on the hull and sticking the back of his head against it with more of the gel.
"Where's Shepard, you little piece of shit?" the distortion on the man's voice intensified as he screamed into his helmet's microphone.
The Cerberus agent's training kicked in as implants numbed the pain from his legs and he calmed his breathing before answering, "You're getting nothing from me, man."
The man nodded and stomped on the agent's stomach, making him lose his strength as the man stuck his limbs to his sides with omnigel epoxy , immobilizing him. Before the agent could catch his breath, the man remotely activated his omnitool and looked over the agent's oxygen levels before producing a small sliver of red-hot carbonite.
"You have enough air for a couple of hours, now I'd say you're having fifteen minutes," the man pressed the sliver to the agent's visor and the heat differential cracked it, letting air hiss out.
The internal pressure of the suit dropped immediately, and the agent started choking, gasping for air as the hissing filled his ears. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the man sit down beside him, resting his forearms on his knees.
"I can fix this ship by myself. So I'm staying here for the fifteen minutes it'll take you to die. On the other hand, you can talk so I can cover your visor up."
…
Over an hour had passed. The man had gone into the Cerberus ship to get oxygen tanks and refilled the agent's supply several times. The cybernetic implants in the agent made it possible to remain conscious in the absence of survivable air pressures, but it made the whole ordeal more desperate. Finally, he chose to talk, if only to die quickly afterwards.
"What… do… you… want… to… know?"
The man tilted his head to the side, surprised by the agent's change of heart. He inched closer and pressed a hand to the cracked visor, reducing the rate of air loss, "You wanna talk now?"
"Yes!" the agent gasped. The man produced a tube of omnigel from one of the pouches on his suit and spread the epoxy on the cracked visor. The hissing stopped soon and the agent's eyes stopped watering as he was able to breathe easier. After a long bout of coughing and gagging, the agent wept. The relief of getting a satisfying lungful of air was overwhelming.
"Alright, alright, are you done?" the man kicked the side of the agent's ribcage, "What were you going to do down there?"
"We were going to retrieve any personal belongings of the late Commander Shepard."
The Cerberus agent saw the man's fists tighten out of the corner of his visor. This wasn't just a scavenging run for him, it was personal. The agent smiled.
"Why?"
"My people in my organization valued the commander's work. Since the alliance wasn't willing to venture into the Terminus, we took it upon ourselves to preserve her memory, even if we only could get things she'd touched."
The man's voice cracked as he made the next question, "Where is the commander?"
The agent put as much sadness as he could into his voice to be more believable, "Our sources say her corpse was found by batarians and sold to the Collectors."
The man slammed a fist on the hull, the vibrations jarring the agent for a moment. The radio channel was cut off and for what seemed ages, the man kept the silence without even moving. Suddenly, the helmet radio crackled back to life, "Thanks for the info."
The man stood up and dissolved the epoxy binding one of the agent's arms. He then walked over to the detonator for the grenade on the agent's back and nudged it towards the free arm. It floated in space, moving only centimetres each second. "Use it when you like. I'll be on the other side of the ship. For what it's worth, I'll let you know when I'll start going for the Relay."
The radio channel was cut off and the agent waited for the remote to get within grabbing distance.
…
You tortured a man.
Nicolas spun on his heel as the now familiar voice came from over his shoulder. A bead of cold sweat ran down his nose and he brought his hand up to wipe it off, only for his gauntlet to clack against the visor, letting the drop float freely within the airspace for the helmet.
"I had to do it. I needed to know," he muttered.
"Who are you talking to, Nicolas?" Hal's voice came through the translator.
"Just shut up, Hal! I'm trying to make sense of things."
There came no response from the AI. Nicolas wondered for a moment if it could get hurt feelings and he felt a pang of guilt until the voice came back.
Well, now we just have to go back and keep doing what we were doing: wrecking shit up.
"No, I'm going back to the Citadel, away from all of this."
I'm sorry, since when did you become a pussy? Just when I started thinking you weren't a cowardly piece of shit. Well, guess we should've known better, huh?
"You're not making any sense."
I'm making all the sense in the world. You're letting Jane's death drag you down. Look what you've accomplished during the time she's been gone!
"But it was all for a reason!"
That's what you tell yourself, but you just couldn't help putting yourself in stupid amounts of danger. That wasn't for her, that was for you! You alcoholic, murdering adrenaline junkie!
"Shut up!"
"BAKER!" Hal's voice snapped Nicolas out of his delirium. He was laying down on the hull with his hands on his helmet and the soles of his boots gluing him to the metallic surface. Hal continued, "I'd love to let you rant, but we're going to fall into Alchera's atmosphere in roughly ten hours unless you get to work. By my estimates, it'll take you seven to get the ship to conditions good enough to at least escape gravity, then you can go nuts with whatever you're dealing with but now is NOT the time!"
…
Three weeks had passed since her frigate left for the Amada system. Aria cracked her knuckles in annoyance thinking on the setback of losing that ship. It wasn't her biggest or her most expensive vessel, but if the crew was as dead as they surely were (she would've heard something by now), then she wasted time and resources for the false promise of whatever the Normandy contained. Maybe she'd send another shuttle to scout… no humans this time, their lack of ability to keep their heads on their shoulders endangered the efficiency of her operations.
A datapad beside her pinged. With a huff, she stretched her hand out and the pad glowed blue before floating into her grasp. A notification glowed displaying a message from an unknown address. The asari rolled her eyes, probably the Shadow Broker. At that point, with Jerris dead, there was no use for what she had requested, but she opened the message anyway.
As agreed, the medical files on the Normandy's crew have been attached, along with all of the audio logs recorded within the ship. The Broker sends his regards.
Opening the attached files, Aria couldn't help but smile at her misfortune, "First I lose a ship, then I pay for information that I don't need," she chuckled.
A knock on the door to her private quarters interrupted the silence. A holo-screen lit up with Anto, Aria's batarian assistant's face on it. The asari called out for him to come in and raised an eyebrow expectantly. The batarian wasted no time and got to the point immediately, "There's a man on dock 0934 that just arrived with a patched up Cerberus ship. He's got five kilos of C4 strapped to himself on a dead-man switch. Said that no one should approach him and he wants to talk to you."
The asari remembered the last message she got from the crew she sent to Alchera, "Aria, I've lost control of the ship and it's on an intercept course towards the Cerberus ship, what is going on?"
A smile tugged at her lips before waving Anto off, "Leave me. Send word for everyone to pull out of level 34 and get me a sky-car."
The batarian hurried out of the room and the door whooshed closed behind him as she opened up her omnitool. She dialled a contact that had gone for way too long without calling and waited for the other end of the line to answer.
"…Aria," came the familiar human voice.
"So you're alive. How did the mission go?" the asari tossed and turned on her bed, searching for a more comfortable position.
"Your crew lost control of the ship and crashed it into Cerberus. I was able to salvage it and get back, but it was too damaged to enter Alchera's atmosphere. We lost most of-"
"Alright, Nathan, leave it for when I see you. See you in a bit," Aria said as she got up from her bed and left her room. Anto stood at the end of the corridor, motioning for her to follow him out Afterlife's back door to where the sky-car was waiting.
"Your people are leaving… Did you tell everyone to back off or are you going to blow level 34?"
Aria stopped walking and tried to understand what the human was saying, "What? Oh no, I'm not making everyone leave to blow the docks! If no-one's there, you'll be unidentifiable! Just stay put, I'll be there in 5, darling."
She cut the connection as she boarded the sky-car and zoomed off for dock level 34.
...
Aria walked out of the vehicle into the abandoned dock. She motioned for Anto to wait in the car as she walked briskly down the corridor to gate 09, her heels clacking loudly on the concrete.
As she walked past gate 07, a distorted voice boomed from further down, "Stop right there! I'll tear Omega a new one!"
Aria smiled before yelling, "It's me, Aria! Come on out!"
The human inched out from behind gate 09. His helmet was on, and he had a block of explosives stuck to the top of his head as well as each of his limbs. Wiring connected the blocks, giving him a goofy look that made Aria let out a hearty cackle.
The C4 block wobbled as the human turned his head to the side perplexed, making Aria continue laughing, "I've never seen you laugh," came the distorted voice as Aria laughed harder, slapping her knees, "what are you laughing at?"
"You!" she guffawed, "after three weeks, you show up with an explosive top hat? It's the funniest thing I've seen in a century!"
"Well, I'm glad you find it amusing," he waited for the asari to calm down before gesturing behind him, "I got you this. Hopefully it'll make up for what was lost."
"Never mind that," she chuckled, "let's go back to the club! Take that helmet and bomb off while you're at it!"
Nicolas did as instructed and walked towards the asari, who made a face and muttered, "or put the helmet back on until you shave."
...
Seeing Omega through the sky-car's windows was surreal, almost as if he wasn't there. He didn't really know what he was doing at the station since his purpose had been fulfilled to some extent. A feeling of emptiness took over Nicolas as Aria's talking over her omni faded into the back of his mind and the lights flashing by outside stopped making sense. Nicolas felt like he was floating in a rust-red river of yellow lights as one uncomplicated thought played on repeat in his brain: Shepard is really gone.
The three walked into Afterlife. The asari and her batarian companion let the human go first as he absent-mindedly walked straight through the dancefloor, oblivious to the patrons, over to the stairs leading to the VIP level. The turian controlling the entrance sidestepped so Nicolas could pass and he came to a stop in front of Aria's couches overlooking the club. He stood there immobile, like a mannequin waiting for a stylist to put him in position. Aria nudged his shoulder and followed her glance towards her private quarters. Wordlessly, he went for the hall leading into the room and stood before the door, which Aria opened remotely. He stepped in and discarded his armour on the way to the bathroom. Inside, he found a razor and proceeded to shave before taking a much-needed shower. Scars and sores ached and stung as the hot water rinsed his skin.
Nicolas felt unfamiliarly soft as he emerged to the bedroom, where Aria sat with a bottle of rum in her hand and a set of casual clothes beside her.
"I took the liberty of throwing your amour away, it was practically a bioweapon at this point. I did order another one which should be arriving within the next hours, though."
"Thanks," Nicolas responded absent-mindedly as he put on the clothes Aria offered, "what happens now?"
"Well, my people are going through the ship," Aria answered while pouring Nicolas a glass of rum, which he took and nursed slowly, "Not much in it and you never fixed the hole in the belly of the cargo hold, but I'm guessing the diary you left will explain a lot. Did you not take your helmet off?"
He shook his head, "Nope. Had to go into cryo inside the suit. You wouldn't believe how uncomfortable it was to wake up in it."
"Sounds horrible," she answered with a bored tone before turning to make eye contact, "Kind of funny that I missed you, thinking you were dead."
"That is kind of funny. We haven't had many pleasant talks to warrant you missing me."
Aria scooted closer on the L shaped sofa they sat on, "Oh come on, Nathan, you know I have a public image to keep, but I've always had a soft spot for you."
"That's a dumb thing to tell your employee," Nicolas chuckled.
"Maybe… maybe this is going to be even dumber," Aria leaned closer to the human and gave him a peck, followed by a soft kiss before Nicolas could say anything, "When you asked me to give you the location of the Normandy I was really surprised. You talked to me like an equal when everyone else talks and looks at me like I'm some sort of demon. Then when you took out Omicron Company, I couldn't help but admire you. You didn't give a fuck that I am Aria T'loak and you had reason to not care, seeing how you pulled that job off. I was certain you would die trying and after you made it, I knew that I definitely didn't want you gone."
"Well, I'm here now," Nicolas didn't know what to say. His mind raced between Aria's black eyes and thoughts of Jane.
"Yes, after three weeks of thinking you were definitely dead. It gave me enough time to get curious as to why you really wanted to go there."
"The materials the Normandy was made out of-"
Aria squeezed Nicolas' hand, quieting him down, "No, Nathan, don't toy with me. I did some research. I know your real name and who you were after."
The hair on the back of Nicolas' neck stood on end, Aria's demeanour didn't show signs of hostility though.
"I think you have to let go of her memory… Nicolas. It's not good for you."
Aria's calm, sad stare made anger bubble in Nicolas' chest. The pity in her eyes irritated him to no end and he frowned before murmuring, "Don't act like you know a thing about me," he said as he stood up, downing the rest of the rum in his glass. The asari's eyes followed him as he walked to the door, which locked down as he approached.
Nicolas turned around after Hal's attempts to hack it, glaring at Aria. Her face was still sad, but pitiless this time. She stood up and alternated between looking at the floor and at Nicolas before speaking, "You aren't leaving until I tell you what's on my mind. I'm in my Matriarch years, I'm done with more years than I care to count, and after seeing hundreds of interesting souls live and wither away, you stop caring about people. The thing is, Nicolas, I know what you've been through, and I'm starting to feel something I haven't felt in a long time and I have to act on it. It's for your own good, then, that you have to hear this."
Nicolas looked at her as she activated her omnitool and brought up an audio file:
"Commander, I can't stress enough how dangerous it is to take Mr. Baker out to the field." That was Dr. Chakwas. Nicolas gasped at hearing that voice in so long. It's been months!
"But you also know that he has to be trained to defend himself from any threat by the time the mission's over." Shepard's voice made Nicolas' heart skip a beat, but he kept his face straight. He couldn't admit to himself the pain it caused him to hear her voice.
"Commander," Chakwas seemed to be pleading, "There won't be any need to be that proficient after Saren has been dealt with."
Shepard's tone became angry, "Do you know how much manpower we lost on Virmire? I can't afford to lose another pair of hands, not just before we finish all of this. Nicolas is not sitting this ou-"
The recording cut to static. Then another voice came in to replace Shepard's.
"And what happens when the mission is over? Can he just go back to a normal life after all this?" That was Garrus' voice.
"I'll try to keep him on the Normandy for as long as I can and start reducing the doses. That way, in a couple of months, I'll be able to stave off the withdrawal syndrome and he'll be ready to re-join civilian society. Hopefully." Dr. Chakwas spoke, relaxed.
"And what if he doesn't lose the syndrome?"
"He'll become apathetic, have spurts of acute depression. His personality will show signs of sociopathy and he might experience audio-visual hallucinations." It surprised Nicolas how calm Chakwas was.
"…Doses?" Nicolas asked as he turned to face Aria, who was walking towards him, datapad in hand.
She shook her head sorrowfully as she handed it to him, "That recording was taken from the databanks of the Normandy. This was from Dr. Chakwas' personal records.
Nicolas' hands trembled as he opened the one document it contained and read silently, his lips mimicking what was written.
Patient remains alert and awake during conversations with peers. Orientation has remained intact during social activities within the Normandy, as well as recollection of past events, both during and before period aboard ship. Abstract thinking has remained good as well as insight capabilities. The ground team has shown supportiveness despite the occasional deteriorations in the patient's empathy.
A low degree of resistance to compound 28981-97-7 has been developed. Combined with the death of a squad mate in Virmire, apathetic behaviours are clearly visible. To counteract resistance symptoms, it is recommendable that dose be maintained.
Continue administration of 28981-97-7 for at least another two months, re-evaluate in two weeks to adjust dosage.
Dosage to be administered three times daily, once in each meal.
It is highly unadvisable for patient to be in the ground team once Normandy arrives at Ilos.
Signed, Dr. Karin Chakwas and Commander Jane Shepard.
Nicolas' legs felt like cooked pasta and he let himself fall against the door, sliding to the floor as he held the datapad up, reading and rereading it. Aria walked up to him and crouched beside the human.
"Shepard authorized the administration of antidepressants on you without your consent during the whole mission in an attempt to make a soldier. You were addicted to them. What Garrus was saying after the recording with Shepard was right after the mission on Virmire. You were administered antidepressants right until you left the Normandy, and then they were somehow administered further. I don't really know how."
Nicolas' mind wandered back to his apartment on the Citadel. Fuzzy images of his kitchen came up, a crate that automatically expended chocolates was there.
"This is why I say you have to let go of her memory, Nicolas. She wasn't the person you thought she was. She wasn't the person you fell in love with."
Nicolas' eyes snapped up to meet Aria's. The asari stared back at him, her face set in a frown and her eyes glassy, "You're wasting your time flying around the Galaxy looking for someone who was never there for you. Let her go. You deserve to be with someone who cares."
She picked the datapad from his hands and stood up. She opened her omnitool and unlocked the door, "Now I've said what I needed to say. You are free to leave, but I would be really happy if you stayed the night. I can deal with anything that comes up tomorrow."
Wordlessly, Nicolas stood up and walked over to the bar, retrieving a bottle of rum before going to the sofa and sitting down. Aria sat down beside him and put a hand on the back of his neck before pulling him in for a kiss.
…
Nicolas opened his eyes. His eyelids ached from clenching them for too long. All around him was orange and red until details of the world that surrounded him came into focus. He found himself pinned under a heavy, bent door and he heard the crackling of fire nearby. Using his legs, he pushed the metallic door away and to the side and stood up. He was in a building, or what was left of it. Fire raged on the walls and ashes filled the air, swaying and floating all around him, making it hard to see further than five metres away. He looked around to find he was in a room, and the door on him corresponded to the one that would lead out into a corridor, possibly to a way out. As he walked for the doorway, he heard a voice he recognized call out to him.
"Nicolas, I'm here," it was Shepard.
He jogged out into the hall to find it was empty except for the fire, which licked at the walls, scorching the ceiling.
The voice came again from far down the corridor, "Oops, maybe I'm here now?"
The pain from being so close to the fire never came as Nicolas dashed down the corridor to find a flight of stairs leading down into more raging fire, "Maybe I'm down here?"
He raced down and tripped on the steps, rolling down to a large room. Fire was now everywhere, blinding and scorching. Nicolas found that his legs were not responding anymore, and he looked down to see his feet melting. His hands came into view, and the skin melted away to muscle, which melted away to bone. A hand, undamaged, entered his field of vision to hold onto his bony one. He looked up to see Jane, smiling back at him.
"Oh, honey, how are you going to get out of here?" she asked in a mocking tone.
Nicolas looked behind him to see that the stairs were now missing. Everything around him was either Shepard or blinding fire, then it was all only fire.
The voice of Jane echoed in his mind, "I got you into this mess because I hate you."
…
"Nicolas! Nicolas!"
The human bolted upright on the circular bed. His eyes took some time to adjust as his ears picked up on the faint, muffled music of Afterlife. A hand touched his forehead, wiping off sweat, "You were having a bad dream. Have you been able to sleep well lately?"
It took a while before Nicolas shook his head and stuttered, "I've been having nightmares."
Aria pursed her lips as she sat beside him. Slowly, she pulled the sheets out from over her and walked to the table on the other side of the room, "I can make them go away," she said as she returned, a small bag in her hand.
"Nicolas, don't do what she says. I can't stay with you if you go down that path," Hal's voice came through the translator, but Nicolas didn't pay attention.
"This will numb your mind. It's just important that you don't overdo it, but I can help you out this first time. What do you say?" Aria asked, as she shook the bag onto the back of her hand, making a pile of red sand the size of Nicolas' little finger's nail.
"I swear I'm leaving if you do this Nicolas," Hal talked again to deaf ears.
"At least this time, someone's being honest with what I'm taking."
"Ok, don't think about the past. Stay with me here in the present. Breathe in, breathe out and then give this a sharp snort. You'll feel relaxed immediately."
…
Hope you enjoyed it!
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