I Want You On My Team
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Five minutes in the shower turned into ten, and those ten became twenty in turn. Sunday kept staring at her fingers. They wouldn't get wrinkled. She still remembered dipping her hands into cold water to wash her face during those winter mornings. Nobody will give you a coin if they see those smudges on your cheeks, you filthy creature! Around five years old, just before she was collected by the cars of the new city government and taken to an orphanage. The first of them, at least.
Those fingertips were not hers. The skin was slightly thicker. Her whole body felt firmer. Not a bad thing, actually. She rested her forehead on the metal panel of the wall, letting the water slide down her neck and back.
"Shepard, do you require assistance?" The AI's cool voice, coming from god-knows-where, freaking her out a little.
"No, it's fine; I'll be right out!" she shouted. She closed the tap and watched the water go down the drain. She pressed a button and a gust of warm air blew her short hair dry. She wondered if that was all the hair she'd ever have, or if it would ever grow back. Her mind still couldn't grasp the concept of having been reconstructed, but she was not the kind of person who'd dwell on that.
Her eyes landed to the right of her left shoulder, right above her breast. Her most infamous scar was gone forever; a slash made in desperation, fighting for survival way before she had learned to fight. How she had bled that night…
"You can select the attire that you wish to wear-" EDI started to say.
"I know, Mom!" Sunday groaned, rolling her eyes and walking into her cabin, stark naked.
"On this ship, we follow orders." Miranda's blue eyes were simply transactional, but Sunday could feel that if she had been less diplomatic, she would have snarked about the new crew member's colorful past.
But Jack just looked past Miranda's shoulder and jadedly said, "Tell Miri the Cheerleader to back off, Shepard. My deal is with you. You have the files here, or should I have them delivered to my room? I bet a French maid outfit would look good on this one…"
"Miranda will give you access right away. The sooner, the better. I do my part, you do yours, right? We'll be picking up a krogan in a few days and I need strong shields like the ones you can provide."
"Figures," Jack shrugged. "Everyone wants something."
"Yeah, but at least this time you get something in return, don't you?" Sunday folded her arms and gave her a firm stare. Jack's red lips curled into what seemed to be the dawn of a smile, but then she looked at Miranda.
"Take me to my hole, precious," she purred mockingly as she left the debriefing area. Miranda looked back at Shepard – no doubt a thousand questions and comments clambered to get out of her mouth.
But she only said, "If this hadn't been the Illusive Man's idea, I would seriously question whether your fabled recruitment skills were impaired in the process of reconstructing you."
"Eh. Maybe Wilson screwed something up?" Sunday scratched the back of her head. "Anyway, yeah. Next time you talk to Tim, you might wanna ask him why we were supposed to buy Jack."
"You know he doesn't like it when you call him like that," Miranda replied, shaking her head.
"You know how many fucks I give, Miranda," Sunday replied, waving her goodbye.
Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam! The biotic bursts finally reached the mech and blew it up, but it was too late for her to avoid the charging krogan. Jack's body flew against a tank as if it was weightless, and it crash-landed with such strength that it knocked the biotic out. Sunday grabbed her shotgun and aimed at the tank-bred, but she couldn't do it. Once again, she just couldn't kill a krogan. Self-hatred and hesitation bubbled in the pit of her stomach. Two bullets flew past her and impacted on the krogan's leg, making it lose balance. Sunday looked around and Miranda squatted next to her.
"I shut down Jedore's shields; you can take a direct hit. I'll take care of Jack," she said, readying the medi-gel.
Sunday got round one of the rusty engines and took point. This was so much easier. Three slow, powerful shots and the bitch was dead. The alarms were triggered and as they blared, the high frequency flooded the channel, forcing them to switch to a different one. "EDI, what's going on?"
"There is a systems failure in the laboratories. I am currently trying to gain access, but most of the power has been rerouted."
"What's Okeer doing up there?" Sunday panted as she sprinted back up the ramps that led to the krogan warlord.
"According to my readings, he must be venting out the toxins that Jedore liberated in the vat area." There was a slight pause, and then EDI said, "I recommend haste."
The body of Okeer was slumped against the tank that he had kept apart. Sunday clenched her fists. The idiot. She'd told him that he should wait outside. The path before them had been cleared specifically so that the Kodiak could do a clean pickup. He'd had no reason to stay there.
"Ah, shit," Jack commented. "Win some, lose some, I guess."
"I do not understand," Miranda muttered. "Okeer wasted his life to save a single krogan? Terrible use of resources. But I guess that at least we get to take this one, don't we? Normandy," she called, "we've got a package for you to retrieve and store in the Port Cargo area."
"Wait… I get to have the turtle as a roommate?" Jack rolled her eyes. "Nuh-uh. Find him some other place."
"Shepard, do you require-?"
"I'm fine, EDI." She was sitting right in front of the tank. She'd been watching it for a long time – her legs had gone numb and she stretched them. Instant relief, instant pain, instant pleasure. She was starting to recognize the places where the implants had been inserted, and she wondered if this krogan would feel just as conscious about his body. "Do you know where you are?" she murmured.
"Yes, Shepard. My core intelligence is housed in a quantum-"
"Not you, EDI. Him. Can he see anything in there? Does he have any idea how it feels to feel? Does he want for something? Will it hurt him if I get him out of there?"
Silence. "I do not have sufficient data to answer your question, Shepard."
Sunday grunted as she stood up. "Open the tank, EDI."
"Regarding alien technology, Cerberus protocols-"
"I'll wipe my ass with all that bureaucratic TP. I gave you an order, EDI. When the commanding officer of a ship tells you to do something, you do not second-guess them. You're an AI, aren't you? Make that a lesson to be learned, so that you know better in the future."
Silence. "Very well, Shepard."
One second she saw him gasping for air, fluid trickling down his armored body. The next, he was trying to crush her against the wall. He sniffed her. "Human. Female. Before you die, I need a name."
She placed a hand over his wrist. It felt warmer and smoother than Wrex. "I'm Commander Sunday Shepard. You're aboard the Normandy, my ship. I'm recruiting people to fight against an enemy that threatens gal-"
The krogan let out a soft chuckle. "Heh. Heh heh," he continued, listening to the sound of his own voice. "Not your name. Mine. Okeer didn't give me one. Warlord… Legacy… Grunt… Grunt was among the last. Meaningless, like yours. It'll do."
"Meaningless?"
"Sunday is a human day of the week. What is its relevance?"
Sunday swallowed hard. "It's the day I was taken into the first orphanage."
"Orphan-age? Is that a tank too?"
In spite of herself, Shepard cracked a smile. "Something like that, yeah. Now, would you mind…?"
He took a few steps back and saw the weapon in her hand. "Hah! Hah hah… Hah!" He laughed, and she didn't know if he liked the sound of his laughter or if he had found the proximity to danger exhilarating. "Offer one hand, but arm the other. I like it. Grunt. Shepard. Hah."
"What a headshot!" Grunt laughed. "Did you see that guy's head blow up? I used the shotgun that Jacob calibrated for me, like Shepard said I should."
"Oh, I'm thrilled," Miranda said, glaring at Sunday. She did not approve of the liberties that Grunt had been given, and she'd complained about it to Jacob, who usually agreed with her. But this time, he'd just shrugged and told her to relax. "If the Commander trusts him, so do we," he'd said. Miranda had rolled her eyes. She knew the quiet admiration that Jacob felt for Shepard, and she hoped that it would remain at that.
"Come on; we need to start planning how to get out of here," Sunday replied dismissively as they ran across the last section of the bridge. "The gunship guy talked about some tunnels–"
"EDI has already checked them. They're a no-go. However, we should tell Archangel about them. Perhaps he's already considered the odds?"
"We'll see…" Shepard climbed the final steps and a bullet hit her shields. "There's two more of them here!" she shouted, signaling the others to take cover. She grabbed her Shuriken and glanced at Miranda, who overloaded one of the enemy guns. Sunday ran out of cover and shot them – controlled bursts, no ammo wasted. Miranda nodded approvingly, and they entered Archangel's bunker.
"Hey there, Archangel," she greeted him casually. "The name's Shepard – you may have heard of me. I'm hiring people for an important mission. I thought you could join us, if we managed to get you out of here alive." She reached out to shake his hand, but he just stared at her behind his helmet.
"You're recruiting," he just said. His voice was distorted and it sounded so cold and mechanical that she felt uncomfortable.
"That's right. I've heard good things about you. Well, not from the mercs. But I'm sure you must have noticed how pissed off they are..." She saw him leave his rifle and take off his helmet. She would have recognized those eyes among a million pairs. "Garrus?"
The turian remained in place, tensed up. He held his arms across his chest, and his hands were curled into fists. Sunday noticed that his mandibles seemed to be shut tight.
"Garrus!" She took a step forward and he lowered his arms.
"You… You were dead," he snarled. "I thought- We all thought you were dead. And here you are; walking, breathing... Crap."
"Is there a problem here?" Grunt asked, standing tall behind Sunday.
Garrus let out his breath and chuckled softly. "And you got yourself a krogan. That's so you, Shepard." His eyes landed on Miranda's uniform – if he'd recognized the Cerberus logo, he didn't let it show. His eyes hardened once more. "Come on, we cannot waste time. The others will be here soon."
Wave after wave, the four of them brought the mercs down. Miranda and Garrus worked from a distance, and Sunday and Grunt took down the heavies and the burrowers. Seeing the krogan charge against the vorcha was like watching a midnight bowling tournament. More than one toothy bastard had been tossed up and Sunday had a memory of Wrex charging against a salarian.
As they were climbing up the stairs again, Miranda contacted her. "Commander, the gunship! Garrus is down!"
"Move!" she shouted at Grunt as she sprinted towards the bunker. If something were to happen to him… Her heart seemed to be beating faster than ever before. The hot and cold chills of fear struck her. The rush of adrenaline, her guts churning… Her whole body was reacting to the potential loss of that friend that she'd just found again.
And for that brief moment, she felt truly alive.
"We still don't know how extensive the damage is," Jacob told her. Resting her back on the leather couch in her cabin, Sunday was reading Miranda's reports to kill some time, but it was hard to concentrate. "Doctor Chakwas believes that, with the help of some implants like the ones you have, he'll have full functionality."
"But…? Because that tone certainly implied a 'but'."
Jacob gave her an elusive smile before going back to his down-to-business demeanor. "We cannot say for certain whether he'll be ready to accompany you to retrieve Doctor Solus."
"I wouldn't take him along anyway," Sunday replied, tossing the datapad aside. "Have you been reading this shit? That plague is killing everyone except for humans. I trust you'll be ready to suit up?"
"I'm more than ready," he nodded. "We haven't been out together since Jack's-"
"Out together, eh?" Sunday smiled. "That what you do with your dates, Mr. Taylor? Wining, dining, and a few biotic pulls to impress the girls?" She could tell that he was feeling slightly embarrassed and she wondered why. Then again, none of the other people in the ship treated her like he did. He even saluted her, for fuck's sake. She felt as old as Hackett.
"I didn't mean to sound cheeky or disrespectful-" he started to apologize, but before she could interrupt him, EDI announced Garrus. The turian stood at the door, looking in on Jacob and Sunday. "Tough son of a bitch," Jacob muttered, relieved. "I'll leave you two alone, Commander."
Once he was out, Garrus walked into the cabin slowly. "Captain's quarters, eh?"
"That's right," Sunday replied, standing up.
"I must confess I never expected the Normandy to fly Cerberus' colours, but…" He breathed in deeply. "What the hell, Shepard? You were supposed to meet me at the bar that Friday!"
Sunday gaped at him before she felt her blood rushing down her veins. "Well, I'm sorry I died!" she yelled. "It was a bit unexpected, you know? And I'm sorry I couldn't message you about it; it's not like being stuck in traffic!"
Garrus's mandibles flapped. "Is it really you? The Shepard I know wouldn't work for Cerberus."
Sunday sighed and slouched tiredly on the sofa. "The Shepard before you doesn't have a choice, Garrus. The Illusive Man… The CEO, let's call him… He told me that I could walk away whenever I wanted. Hell, I certainly could, except for the fact that Cerberus would probably confiscate any salary I got from here to eternity, because there's no way I could ever return the money they spent on bringing me back."
"That much?" he asked, sitting down beside her.
"Billions."
"Damn it. And they couldn't fix your face in the process?" The shadow of a smirk appeared on his face.
"Oh, hardy fuckin' har har; as if you looked any better," she grumbled, touching the open scars on her face.
"They didn't spend billions on me – they probably used your leftovers," Garrus replied.
Sunday laughed. "I missed you, turian bastard." She saw him nod, but he remained silent. "But I really can't walk away, can I? I'm technically dead. The Alliance got rid of me. I'm no longer a Spectre. I bet the Council was eager to do that, and Udina must have jumped at the chance to cross my name off the records, even if it meant losing a human representative… So I'm kinda stuck here, you know? Joker keeps me grounded but... Boy, am I glad to see you."
"Well… I'm here for you, I think." He passed his hand over his crest. "I just need a little time to adjust. Luckily, the forward batteries are alluring enough for me to overlook the fact that we're in a human-supremacist frigate."
"Hey, if someone gives you as much as a mean look, we'll throw them out the airlock."
"Now that's the Shepard I know," Garrus laughed and groaned. "Shit, does your face hurt this badly too?"
"You'll get used to it," she smirked.
He stood up. "I'd better get going. Whatever you need, just say the word."
"So… What's the beef with the toady doctor?" Jack asked her. They were walking back to the Normandy from the Presidium, and after that disastrous meeting with Udina and Anderson, Sunday was in a terrible mood.
"What do you know, I'd never have thought you'd be up for small talk," she barked.
"I figured that since you're always pestering me with stupid questions, I could return the favor. Besides, talking distracts me. There's so much glass here, and it's starting to feel like there could be less. Of course, Cerberus wouldn't foot the bill for my wreckage. Hey, how much of the budget goes to cheerleading? Does Miri use a tiny mass effect field to keep her perky ass that way?"
Jacob snorted. "I'm sorry."
"Hey Shep, we could bring along that smartass reporter that tried to set you up today, and lock them both somewhere and lose the key."
"Say what you will, but Khalisah al-Jilani has always had a reputation for asking the questions nobody wants to answer," Jacob replied. "I remember her first interview with the Commander, and for a moment I thought she was going to punch her."
"You're a total Shepard groupie, Taylor," Jack sneered.
"I was Alliance back then as well, and she was… inspirational," Jacob murmured.
"I would have done it," Sunday commented. "The punching. Every fiber of my being said 'go for it' – I didn't because I thought that Udina had wired my suit and that he'd zap me if I got out of line."
"What about this time?" In spite of her usual indifference, Jack seemed interested. "There was nothing holding you back. Unless you were scared of the camera?"
"Because she didn't deserve it," Jacob replied. "If the Commander had punched her, she would have been seen as a martyr. Besides, Shepard was right: all the people lost in the battle-"
"The genophage," Sunday interrupted Jacob.
"Pardon, Commander?"
"Jack wanted to know my problem with the Doctor. The genophage is my problem." As they waited for decontamination, she told them about Mordin's work for the STG. "I had a friend who died because he thought that there was a cure and that I was going to destroy it. The genophage was wrong, and the only reason why Doctor Solus is still on the Normandy is because we need him." The doors opened but she didn't enter right away. She looked over her shoulder; her companions were watching her in silence. "I don't want to hear anything else about it. Grunt doesn't need to know either. Is that clear?"
"Understood, Commander," Jacob said firmly. Jack simply watched her walk away.
"But the Alliance's got nothing to do with the Terminus- Oh, so that's why Anderson wouldn't tell me where Kaidan was," she grunted. "If I'd known-"
"What matters is that our intel confirmed it," the Illusive Man told her. "And that's why I'm giving you a heads up. I am not encouraging you to try to recruit Commander Alenko – as far as we know, he's Alliance. But this is the most warning we've ever had. What we do with this… Horizon is up to you. Good luck, Shepard."
She pointed her gun at the mechanic. "Tell me where you last saw him or else."
"Calm down, Shepard," Garrus said. "Look, she's serious," he told the man. "Also, she really knows how to use that weapon, which you must have gathered already because otherwise we wouldn't have gotten this far. So… Where is Commander Alenko?"
"That is a huge bug!" Grunt gaped.
"Don't get distracted, kid!" Garrus shouted as he shot down a few stragglers. Once the overwhelming waves of husks had disappeared, the remaining collectors had been easy to take down.
"Oh fuck, that thing's got a barrier," Sunday muttered, wishing that she'd brought Miranda along. "Grunt, I need you to take cover and put my Mattock to good use! I'll take point and try to bring down the barrier with this gun. Garrus – you'll be the distraction, okay? Run up and down that area, so that it can see you."
"Why me?" the turian asked.
"Because you can't duck. It's coming!" She took the weapon that she'd found next to a dead collector and aimed it at the giant flying creature. The beam pierced right through the barrier, revealing a second layer of protection. "Overload that shit!" Shepard yelled.
"You got it!" Garrus replied, shutting down the shields of the Praetorian. "Shepard, it didn't do much-!"
"Grunt, fire!"
The bursts went through the armor, making the creature bleed with every shot that landed on it. A deafening screech came out of it, and its barrier was fully restored. The krogan looked back at Sunday.
"Okay, next time I say fire, know that I mean incendiary ammo!" Shepard shouted, hiding behind a pillar to avoid a burst of energy.
"I was using that!" Grunt protested.
"Then switch, because it's not working!" Sunday came out of hiding and fired the Praetorian once more. The weapon hummed and this time, the beam was stable. They seem to be stuck in a cycle of burn-burst-shoot that gave her no hope. And then…
It wasn't an explosion – it was pure decay. The disintegration of the creature gave them a glimpse of the other bodies that had made it up. They were grateful that the helmets prevented them from smelling the burnt flesh.
They were suddenly struck by the heat of the take-off. The ship was leaving and the guns had not managed to bring it down.
"Shit," Shepard hissed. The collectors had taken the colonists. All those people… Had she failed? She was pretty sure she had. If only they'd been there before… "Oh, fffuck..."
"Don't blame yourself," Garrus's soft voice said from behind. "We did all we could with the intel we had, and no assistance from the Alliance. At least we rescued some of the people. Perhaps Doctor Solus can test his solution on those who are still paralyzed?"
"There's something moving back there," Grunt said, holding his shotgun.
Sunday switched to her pistol – whatever was waiting for them there would never be as bad as that last thing the collectors had thrown at them. She signaled Garrus and Grunt to ready their weapons before she took point.
"Kaidan…" she whispered, seeing the man slowly coming towards her.
"How did it feel to finally face the enemy in battle?" The Illusive Man was slowly stroking the rims of his glass. Sunday was sure that he'd probably read their reports and the transcripts of their conversations – she wasn't so naïve as to believe that Cerberus wasn't keeping an eye on her day and night.
"I won't lie," she smirked. "The fighting was good. It almost felt like home. Next time they won't run away."
"Seems like you got a taste for it," he smiled, pleased. "Good. Your hunger for battle is what made you such a valuable asset – both to the Alliance and to us; there's no need to hide it. We'll just have to find a way to keep you sated."
"Kaidan being there was no coincidence, was it?" Sunday crossed her arms. "I could tell that he was surprised to see me there, but… It wasn't really surprise," she recalled bitterly.
"I may have let it slip that you were alive and working for Cerberus. Whatever the Alliance did with that information is not my doing. In any case… Seeing Commander Alenko must have been hard. He was your second in command, wasn't he? Am I wrong to assume that you've left that part of your life behind?"
She didn't want to discuss it, and for a brief second she considered telling him to go fuck himself. But she stood straight and said, "You are not. I'm free and ready to proceed with this mission."
The warm water wasn't enough to wash off the stress of that day. She hadn't expected it to be the hardest part, but it had been, and now she was mad – at him, for refusing to listen to reason; at her, for being trapped in that situation. She'd never been great with words, but being unable to explain why she found herself in that position was simply frustrating.
She hit the wall with her fist. What was she supposed to do? She hadn't asked for any of that. "Thinking you were gone… It was like losing a limb." They'd grown more attached after Ashley's death. He hadn't blamed her for it. "Can't you see you're working for the enemy? Have you forgotten what they're capable of?" Did he think that she was so stupid? And she hadn't been able to say anything – she was sure that they were listening in, testing her. She was never alone. Ever since she'd woken up, it was one damn trial after another. Not her choice, but if she wanted to do something about the Reapers, she had to be game. "You've turned your back on everything we stood for." The despondency in his voice. The sorrow and anger in his eyes. She remembered the bright-eyed young man that had been so proud of the street rat turned Commander. She'd always admired his straightforwardness, his compassion, his devotion to a system that had taken her in out of pity…
"Fuck this…" she whispered, feeling the warm sting of tears. She hadn't cried in so long, but she wasn't going to start now… Disappointing Kaidan just made her feel unlike herself again. She rested her forehead on the cool panel in front of her and let the water flow over her sore back for a long, long time.
This time EDI remained silent.
...