Session Two; Chisholm
"Tell me again about Curtz," Kelly asked, a faint smile playing across her features.
"Curtz?" Miranda asked, a hint of confusion appearing her voice, "Why?"
"He's the only soldier you named," Kelly tapped a thoughtful finger against her chin, "You obviously considered him more than just another shock-trooper."
"He was the only Cerberus operative I worked with more than once," Miranda said, a hint of annoyance in her voice, "Except Jacob, of course."
Kelly nodded, "Understandable."
"You sound unsure, Kelly. Are you sure you haven't been spending too much time with Garrus and Gardner? I hear they've devised an incredibly detailed theory about how my emotionless exterior is simply a result of my cold, robot interior," Miranda let out a soft laugh, clapping her hands together derisively.
"That's not what I meant, Miranda," Kelly said, rubbing her hand across her eyes in frustration, "I was simply surprised, given the details of what happened with him..."
"What?" Miranda asked, her eyes whipping around and pinning Kelly to her chair, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Kelly paused, deep in thought, then said shakily, "I expected you to distance yourself from the incident, maybe attempt to justify or deny your involvement."
Miranda sighed, "I probably would have before all this."
"All 'this'?" Kelly furrowed her brow, "You mean the situation with the Collectors?"
"Yes," Miranda said forcefully, then added a second later, "And Shepard."
"You think Commander Shepard has changed your outlook?"
"Absolutely," Miranda nodded, a little too energetically, "I mean, even beyond the conversations we've had; her actions have proven me wrong time and time again."
"How so?" Kelly asked, leaning forward in her chair and setting aside her data-slate.
"The Illusive Man taught me that the only way to protect humanities interests was to put them first," Miranda leaned back, her mouth tightening into an ugly shape, "Every day Shepard teaches me more and more about how wrong he was. She doesn't even think, doesn't hesitate and never compromises. I've seen so many situations where Cerberus would have had no qualms about trading one life for another; or both for some other outcome."
"And Shepard?" Kelly asked, stroking her chin.
"If there's a way she can save everyone, she'll do it. Even if there isn't, she'll still try," Miranda smiled, then shook her head too, "I sound like an idealist; someone who's been reading too many novels, but that's how Shepard makes everyone feel, I suppose. She's like something out of one of Homer's epics; even if she knows she can't win, she fights like she believes she can."
"You're comparing the Commander to Achilles?" Kelly snorted and cocked her head to the side, "An odd comparison, but I can see the logic."
"No, I was thinking of Hector, actually."
Kelly nodded, "We're getting off topic. At the end of our last session you made a reference to Chisholm, about the station itself. Would you care to tell me the story?"
"Have you read that section of my file completely, yet?"
"No," Kelly sighed, "There was disturbance I had to take care of last night, Donnelly was nearly killed."
"An accident?" Miranda asked, her eyes widening slightly in surprise.
"No," Kelly sighed again and this time she didn't just sound stressed, she looked it too, "Jack pulled a pistol on him."
"Lasting damage?"
"No, she was drunk, she put a bullet clean through the window overlooking the docking bay. Nearly hit Grunt," Kelly's head tilted back to look at the ceiling, "You can guess how that would be a problem. Anyway, Chisholm?"
Miranda relaxed a little, settling back into the couch, "Chisholm was meant to be the final stage of Operation Forseti."
"Forseti?" Kelly interrupted, "I know that phrase..."
"Norse mythology," Miranda explained quickly, "A representation of justice, or an adjudicator of sorts. The Illusive Man picked the name because the Operation was supposed to culminate in the assassination of Karnak."
"And Karnak's crime?" Kelly asked, although she already knew the answer.
"I'll get to that," Miranda deflected the question, waving with her hand.
"Very well."
"With the information gained from Getholk we were able to identify Karnak's next location," Miranda activated her omni-tool and brought up a holographic display.
A 3-d wireframe diagram of a y-shaped structure appeared in the air. At the centre of the 'y' shaped spars a large, round centre was situated. Shaped like a yo-yo, the round room at the space station's structure glowed a faint orange in the dim lights of Kelly's office.
"This is Chisholm," Miranda pointed out the centre room, "Here's the conference stage; a multi-floor room designed to accommodate parties, gatherings and other interstellar social events."
"Doesn't exactly sound like your typical bad guy's hide-out," Kelly smiled.
"It wasn't," Miranda smiled too, but unhappily, "It was an Asari structure, belonging to some billionaire socialite who wanted to trek across the stars, partying the whole way."
"It didn't work out, I take it?" Kelly asked dryly.
"No, they were killed by Hanar religious extremists shortly after they left Illium," Miranda nodded slowly, purposefully, "The station was decommissioned; set to be destroyed. Apparently Karnak got his hands on it."
"And?"
"And turned it into his own party station," Miranda's grimace broadened slightly, almost turning into a genuine smile, "Genuinely, too. He kept it pretty much the same, just fortified the entrances and exits."
She gestured to the top-right spar, "This one used to be an alcohol fermentation area, I think. He kept it the same. The left spar he turned into a guard room, complete with all kinds of weaponry and a fully functional armoury."
"And the bottom spar?"
"His personal quarters and those of his guests," Miranda shrugged, "The central area, with the entertainment rooms, the stage and the, uh, strip club."
"Strip club?" Kelly asked, bewildered.
"Oh yes, filled to the brim with Asari, Salarian and Batarian dancers; very skilled I hear," Miranda laughed softly, "Karnak used the station as a meet and greet location, there he invited all kinds of sympathizers and eccentrics, in an attempt to curry their favour. He had to gain funding from somewhere, the best place was the anti-human radicals that populated the inner areas of the Terminus systems."
"And he, what, held parties there?" Kelly asked, confused.
"Absolutely. Bloody good ones too, from what I saw," Miranda laughed again, louder this time, "Karnak wasn't a religious extremist, Kelly, he enjoyed parties and alcohol and any other pleasure he could acquire. He was charismatic too, a born leader from what I understand. Fast tracked for political service on the world he came from."
"So," Kelly said slowly, savouring the word, "The party provided an opportunity; you could eliminate not only Karnak but a large number of his supporters and members of the anti-human powerbase in the Terminus systems."
Miranda gave a crooked smile, "You're becoming a realist, Kelly. The Illusive Man's thoughts exactly."
"So how did you get in?" Kelly asked, frowning slightly, amused.
"I didn't, not at first."
The dance-floor throbbed gently underneath Alteia's feet. It pounded and throbbed in perfect synch with the music that blasted down from overhead. She felt hands brush against her hips, then a pair of wet lips press against the nape of her neck. She pulled away, pressing further into the throng of the writhing crowd.
It was too early to be discovered just yet, and she was sure the pistol strapped to her thigh; under the tight, slick material of her latex dress. It was a compact model, designed to fold away into a slim, discrete square shape when not in immediate use. Even though she'd checked and re-checked her outline in the dress in front of a mirror for three hours before entering the station she still didn't feel entirely comfortable.
Bodies pressed against her from all directions; swinging hips and arms battered her and spun her around in all directions. It was difficult, but she finally managed to push through the crowd and come out the other side alive. A bar stretched across the entire east side of the room; a slim Batarian woman was serving drinks from behind it.
Alteia stepped and signalled her with a nod, "Got anything non-alcoholic, by any chance?"
The bartender's only answer was a short, gruff laugh.
"Figured," Alteia said quietly, turning away.
She headed for the women's bathroom and rubbed the back of her neck gently as the entrance slid open to let her through. She stepped inside, glanced along the wall where the sinks and mirrors were situated and then stepped into a cubicle and locked it shut.
She tapped a single finger to the miniature ear-piece located in her left ear, "Lawson, you read?"
The voice came back, clear and without static, "I'm here, Alteia, what have you got?"
"Nothing yet," Alteia whispered, wary of being overheard, "Karnak hasn't shown up, got a glimpse of Arctys on one of the upper balconies on the floor above me. I'm assuming that's where he's located."
Alteia could hear Miranda's approval as her voice filtered back through the earpiece, "Karnak wouldn't stray far from his bodyguard, try and follow him if you can. If you can't head to the conference floor; according to the schedule Karnak should be addressing his guests there in about an hour."
"You got it, Miranda," Alteia nodded to herself and gave the gun at her side a reassuring pat, "If I see Karnak?"
"Hold fire, radio it in," Miranda responded curtly, "We'll hit the guard's quarters as soon as you give us visual confirmation."
"Got it," Alteia responded with a wearied sigh, "Spend thirty years in the militia, sixty as a mercenary for hire and I end up being given the task of talking into a microphone and looking at things."
"I can still hear you, you know," Miranda's voice barked in her ear.
"Oh," Alteia stood, cracked her neck with a twist of her head and then unlocked the cubicle, "Time to get to work, then."
"Alteia? She didn't appear in your file," Kelly's eyes were locked onto her computer screen, frowning slightly.
"No," Miranda said quietly, "She wouldn't."
"Care to explain?" Kelly asked, turning back to her patient.
"Not particularly," Miranda shook her head and shrugged.
"Okay," Kelly sighed, "What was her role?"
"She was an expert in infiltration," Miranda explained, "And an alien. Karnak wouldn't let a human aboard his station, no way in hell."
"Because of the Batarian-Alliance conflict?" Kelly asked, although it sounded more like a statement.
"Yes and no," Miranda said, "For him it was more personal. We'll come back to that later, if you want."
"Sure," Kelly nodded, then noted, "Cerberus doesn't usually work with aliens."
"Exigent circumstances, Alteia was trustworthy and she'd work for cheap."
"Why's that?"
"There was a matriarch aboard the station, one of Karnak's supporters," Miranda yawned loudly, "A violent radical; didn't like humans, didn't like the fact that Alteia stopped an attack on a human colony even more. She killed some of Alteia's friends in retaliation, political figures mostly. Targets who'd send a message to everyone, not just Alteia."
"Not a fan of humanity? That's unusual for an Asari," Kelly scratched at her temple absentmindedly.
"Not a fan of humanities aggressive expansion, or the favour humanity was gaining with the council," Miranda sighed and clicked her tongue, "Politics, as always."
"Fair enough."
"Not really."
"Hmph. This other figure you mentioned, this 'Arctys'? Karnak's bodyguard, you said?" Kelly looked up at Miranda through questioning eyes.
"Yes," Miranda tapped a finger against her thigh and bit her lip, "Tough nut to crack; tougher to kill."
"Who was he?"
"Not much known about him, a Turian. Part of some sort of Turian 'super-soldier' program that took place a few years before Operation Forseti," Miranda ran a finger along her thigh, stopping just short of her waist, "He was imprisoned; murder, I think, or rape maybe, I don't remember. Anyway, he broke out in transit. Killed a unit of decorated Turian soldiers and fled to the Terminus systems, there he got a job offer. Work for Karnak as an enforcer; made his way up the ranks quickly, of course. He had a talent for killing."
Kelly nodded, then stood up and stepped around her desk; leaning back and putting her weight on the edge, "So what happened next?"
Curtz' face was glued to the gun that hovered in front of him; even through the thick space-suits they both wore Miranda could see the hunched shoulders, the tensed muscles and the concentration marred face that showed just how on edge the soldiers really was.
She placed a hand on his shoulder; a clumsy, imprecise gesture that nearly knocked him over.
"Thanks," He said quietly, understanding the meaning despite the space-suit induced clumsiness that undermined the action.
Miranda nodded, then gently pushed away from him and floated through the ship to the cockpit. Everything was powered down, nav-readouts, control screens, communications consoles. Even the air-circulation and life-support systems had been shut down; hence the need for the suits.
A ship as small as the fighter jet they currently occupied had no need for anti-grav systems, a fact that Miranda detested. She hated the lack of gravity; hated everything about the weightlessness and clumsiness of what had always before been precise, calculated movements.
The lack of power kept them off Karnak's radars, but any party-goer who looked out the window could see them, hence why they'd hung the ship in orbit between the station and the nearby star; Karakhtar, the light and heat would keep them hidden for a little while, but soon they'd drift out of its circumference and be easily spotted.
"Anything?" Miranda spoke into her comm. bead.
Alteia's voice came back to her, oddly quiet, "Nothing yet, but it looks like people are starting to head upstairs. Maybe the speech is starting early."
Miranda swore under her breath, "Alright, keep us informed."
"Operative Lawson," Curtz' voice came through her radio, "We're going to be visible to the naked eye soon; we need to hurry."
She turned to him. His hands were a blur as he dismantled and re-assembled his rifle in a matter of seconds. His hands showed none of the clumsiness Miranda's had, "I know, but we can't move until Karnak's presence is confirmed. Just be patient."
"We try and cut and run and they'll blow us to pieces," Curtz' warned, his voice tinged with worry.
"I don't plan on that happening," Miranda said, her voice steady.
"Murphy's Law, ma'am," Curtz' said quietly and knocked his rifle aside, it floated end over end and then smacked against the back end of the ship.
"Reassuring," Miranda said, then moved back into the cockpit.
"You were close?" Kelly asked.
"Only professionally," Miranda said with a smile.
"Ah, I see," Kelly folded her arms across her chest and turned her head upward; thinking carefully about her next words, "He seems talented from the way you describe him."
"Seemed," Miranda corrected with a nod, "And yes, very talented."
"Care to elaborate?" Kelly asked, throwing her hands up.
"No."
"...alright then."
The call came through, Alteia's voice sounded faster than normal; not panicked, but excited. Or expectant. Miranda couldn't quite tell.
"He's here. Karnak's on the stage and he's started talking."
Miranda began powering the ship up, her hands danced across the controls; even though they were wrapped in the hefty gloves of the suit. Annoyances and worries fell away as practiced, calm intuition and skill took over. Her body worked on auto-pilot; flipping switches and pressing buttons with ease.
Curtz' appeared next to her, his Avenger rifle clutched in his right hand.
"Bring the guns online," Miranda hissed over the comm. link they shared.
Curtz nodded as best he could inside his suit, "Yes, ma'am."
There was a deep throb that rattled through the ship as the hull-mounted cannons cycled around and powered up.
"Guns powered," Curtz announced, "Ready to fire. Activating targeting systems."
"Incoming!" Miranda barked, sliding her hands across the control console and sending the ship into a tight, controlled spiral.
Light flashed toward them; twin-linked barrels attached to the guard's section of the station swung to and fro and stitched red-hot cannon fire into the dark space around them. Miranda jerked the ship around; dancing through the storm of light.
"Fire!" Miranda ordered, gasping the word out as a round cut across the forward viewing port and glanced off the ship's kinetic barriers.
"Targeting," Curtz said, his voice steady and even.
Another shot impacted against their shields, rocking the ship from side to side and sending them into a spiral that would have torn them to pieces had they been inside a planet's atmosphere.
They came back up with fire flashing from the ship's guns, at such close range it was nigh impossible to miss. The first shot tore through the guard's quarters themselves, even as the resultant fireball tore apart the upper section of the spar Miranda could swear she saw flailing bodies as well as shards of metal spinning out into space.
She pulled the ship hard to starboard, swinging around a piece of the station that was twice the size of their fighter. Curtz fired again. His second shot hit the armoury, or at least where it had been on the floor layout they'd intercepted. Explosives detonated explosives as the stockpile of weaponry tore itself apart. That entire section of the station disintegrated in a micro-second. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the explosion that had consumed the guard's spar died.
Miranda uttered a sigh of relief and pulled the ship downward; heading for the blown open remains of the guard's section; where it joined with the centre of the station.
"You ready?" Curtz asked her.
"Always."
"Bold plan," Kelly said, admiringly.
"We decided it was the best option for a quick infiltration," Miranda said firmly, "We'd thought of every kind of subtlety we knew, but none of them would have worked. The only way to breach Karnak's defences was to blow them apart."
"Like I said," Kelly smiled, "Bold."
"Yes," Miranda agreed, "But it was risky. If I had made a single miscalculation during our assault I would have crashed the ship into a piece of the station, or been hit by cannon flak. And once we got inside we were facing an army, even though we'd probably halved the number of guards on the station with our initial salvo."
"Yes, your report mentioned the surprisingly high number of soldiers Karnak had stationed there," Kelly nodded, then moved back over to her computer and read something of the screen, "Over a hundred, if this is to be believed."
Miranda nodded, a grim look on her face, "Yes and that was after we blew up the guard's section. We were lucky that some of them were trapped in the other sections; it seems the explosion activated some sort of safety system that locked off every part of the station."
"But still, you took on a lot of infantry."
"Yeah," Miranda nodded slowly, pensive, "But it wasn't enough."
"Do you blame yourself for how the mission ended?" Kelly asked, looking Miranda in the eye.
"Yes," Miranda nodded, her head hanging down briefly, "But I blame Karnak and every other bastard on that station more."
"Tell me about what happened," Kelly said quietly, leaning in.
"No."
"Sorry?"
"We've ran out of time," Miranda said, checking her omni-tool's chronometer, "We'll talk more tomorrow, Kelly."
"Of course, Miranda."
She headed for the door to Kelly's office, her shoulders slumped slightly as she reached it; her hand extended.
"Oh, Miranda?" Kelly called after her.
The dark haired woman turned back, a curious look on her face, "Hm?"
"Commander Shepard wants to see you," Kelly said with a smile.
"Ah," Miranda nodded, "Of course."
End Chapter Two