"I'm looking for a couple of idiots willing to follow me into certain death."
"...We're in."
The frigate was settled, perched like a white bird of prey atop a tree. Unseen to most of the observers and passengers alike, an encrypted signal had been sent only minutes before the magnetic grips attached to the side, keeping the ship firmly in place. Enhanced by the lights of the bay aside it, the emblem of the Normandy SR-3 flaunted itself proudly. Within, its pilot adjusted himself into a more comfortable position on his seat.
And then waited.
It felt to Joker as though he was doing quite a bit of waiting lately, at the very least more than he spent flying. Or doing something of importance. Not that he was bitter. He merely wished that someone had informed him that his infiltration vessel was going to be used as a cargo cruiser. He might have gotten more sleep. While he adored the design improvements present in the newest iteration of the Normandy, what Alliance Command's orders constituted was, in his opinion, a waste of its potential.
Any idiot could go to planet X, find shipment B, and carry it to point O. A pilot like himself did not qualify as 'any idiot'. If anything, he was a 'special idiot'. Obviously though, the Councilor who had commissioned its upgrade had no idea in regards to the Normandy's mission specifics. Try as he might, he couldn't figure out who might have put so little thought into it. His best guess was the Salarian Councillor - she didn't seem to care about much aside from how little she could pay for something. Wrex was right out, on the opposite side. He knew exactly what the Normandy was about.
Not for the first time, it struck Joker as simply how very odd it was to think of the Krogan as a Council race. There was no question Wrex and his people had earned it - as if their contributions during The War weren't enough, they had done a more than admirable job as intergalactic police while the Turians and Humans were rrebuilding their fleets - but they weren't two things one often associated. That Joker could still remember a time when Krogan had just been barbaric cannon fodder only made him feel old.
Another sign of the changing of the times was his dual payroll. While the Normandy was still technically an Alliance vessel, the program itself was funded directly by the Council, meaning that occasionally he would be called in to perform services of 'galactic importance'. Usually that was fancy speak for 'chauffeur'. It made sense - even with the recent technology boom, the SR-3 was still the most advanced stealth vehicle in existence, making it perfect for depositing Councilors unseen - but much like the Alliance's pickup jobs, it made Joker feel like his skills were of minimal importance compared to his good name and 'ability to restrict oneself from divulging secrets of Council or Alliance affairs'. Also known as keeping his mouth shut. That was guaranteed to make him smile. It was like the bigshots had never even met him. And, in point of fact, most of them hadn't.
"Jeff, the Council has sent a response to our status update." EDI's calm voice rang from her seat to his right, bringing an end to his moment of contemplation.. Joker raised an eyebrow and checked his logs.
"Not seeing any response signals, EDI." He tapped the screen multiple times to refresh them, but still nothing appeared. "Did you see it before it hit us?"
"Perhaps I should have clarified. They sent a physical response."
From behind him, Joker heard a few hard raps on the port airlock. Someone wanted in.
"Well, throw open the welcome mat, let's see."
He heard a hissing sound as the door opened and adjusted a few controls before turning around. He almost fell out of his seat. Standing behind him, hands behind his back, blue armor glinting in the light, was a familiar face.
"Kaidan?!"
"Hello Joker." The Spectre nodded. "Nice to see you again."
"Been a while coming! You've been deployed what, seven months and no word?"
"Something like that. Good to know the ship's still standing. Keeping out of trouble, EDI?" He nodded to the android on the co-pilot's seat.
"Not if Jeff can help it." She replied dryly.
"Sheesh, you navigate through a minefield one time…" Joker muttered.
"Sounds like we've got some stories to trade." Kaidan said. "But we can talk on the way. Can you get us to the Trebia System?"
"Trebia? Sure. You got some kind of mission on Palaven?"
"Something like that." Joker noted that Kaidan couldn't quite hide the little kick he got out of repeating himself, the sneaky bastard.
"Damn, you sure got vague. Setting a course, but you're gonna have to tell us what for at some point."
"Visiting an old friend."
Joker's eyebrows went up into his hat and he turned around again. "How old?"
"The oldest."
Garrus didn't sleep well. That was normal. He'd come to expect it. Too many faces staring back in the mirror, so to speak. He couldn't exactly remember what his dream was about this time, but he remembered that Shepard was in it.
He got up from his bed (such as it was) and walked over to a mirror hung on the wall, glaring at the face that appeared. Beaten, weathered. A little bit angry. The line of violet paint that crosses his eyeridges made it seem like he was constantly glaring, and maybe he was, but that was a small price to pay. It was important for a turian to display connections like that. A little colored band the same shade as Her eyes. Sporting two different marks on his face earned him the occasional odd glance, but he didn't regret the application for a second.
It was comforting, in a way, to bear the permanent mark of his second family, the one he'd had for a short time, then lost forever. Like keeping a memory etched into his scales. Even if he died in battle on some distant corner of the galaxy, the recovery techs would be able to look at his charred corpse and remark that here lay the man who loved Commander Shepard. And then probably give him some kind of medal he would somehow care more about being dead than being alive.
Being buried under gold appealed to him more than being weighed down by it in his living steps.
He shook his head and walked over to his desk. It was adorned with exactly three objects. His computer, a medal in a glass case, and a single picture. It was of her, the Citadel's sun shining down in light beams around her dark hear, a cocky grin on her face. Bottle in one hand, sniper rifle in the other. Vehicles flew past below, momentary dots covering up an otherwise-beautiful view of the Presidium grounds.
His favorite place on the Citadel.
It hurt to look at, like someone jamming a claw into an old bullet wound, but he smiled anyway. Some memories were worth the pain, and then some. Better than just feeling sorry for himself, anyway.
The medal was a piece of greater contention. It looked too simple to be what it was. A circular disk with the symbols of every race in the galaxy etched into its surface, edges lined with platinum and Element Zero to give it that extra, unearthly glow. He still didn't know why he had it. From the Council, to the Alliance, to one Former Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard, and then to him. Shepard's mother didn't speak to him during the entire funeral procession, but she had exuded an indefinable warmth towards him that had made the event easier to bear.
That whole day had been a mess, for all of them. The medal would have gone in the coffin, but there was no body to bury. One line of important figures after another spewing words on a crowd that spanned hundreds of worlds. In retrospect, Garrus understood his anger at the time - why should any of them have felt the need to speak? But Wrex put it into perspective for him: "If it weren't for Shepard, we wouldn't be alive to give any speeches. Might as well use the chance she gave us."
Surprisingly, his turn hadn't been so bad. He told them about the Normandy, about their mission, gave a few anecdotes and stepped down. Simple, like he was letting a Spirit take over for him.
The worst part of it all had been something he couldn't change. When the soldiers ended the event with their at-arms salute, the reality of it all came crashing down on him for the fifth time that week. And just like every other time, he couldn't afford to break down, even though he'd desperately wanted to.
It was the smallest, stupidest part of it, though, that really got to him. Turians couldn't shed tears. Biological trait. Hannah cried. Tali and Liara cried. Even Wrex cried, although he assured everyone afterwards that this wasn't the case. But not Garrus. He was the rock, the stoic , and not by choice. Not a single drop. He felt like he owed her at least one tear, even though it was impossible.
His quarters were full of small reminders, incongruous additions. A larger-than-regulation bed. Washing supplies for dextro- and levo-amino species in the shower. An untouched supply of human M.R.E.s in the cooler that he'd been assured had a shelf life measured in decades. He'd never considered himself very religious, but if the Spirit Shepard had left behind was strong enough to follow him (and by any measure it absolutely was), then leaving room for it was, again, the least he could do.
So it was at his desk, on his chair, staring into the picture with his mandibles twitching and thoughts swirling about in a daily routine, that he heard the call. He turned on the comm unit and heard a familiar voice coming through. Renar, his top communications specialist. "Admiral, your presence is requested on the bridge. There is a vessel asking permission to dock with the Victorious."
"Alright. I'll be up in a minute." There was a pause.
Apparently his voice sounded more weary than usual. "…Did I wake you, sir?" Normally, a turian admiral might've gone down and given Renar a tongue-lashing for asking such a personal question, but Garrus didn't mind. In fact, his ship had garnered quite the reputation for its informal crew. Some others had jokingly referred to it as 'the penitentiary for inexperienced hooligans'. He readily accepted that reputation, because damned if it didn't work. Five Terminus engagements since it was commissioned and not a scratch on it. He found he worked well with the crew in general. After all, he was hardly an 'average' turian himself when it came to formalities.
In fact, the Victorious found itself a part of the most presently important section of the modern turian military. Patrols needed to be maintained in a wide range for areas for the safety of Council space. The Krogan had done a fair job by themselves, but it was a point of pride for the Hierarchy to spare something in the effort. That was the main reason for Garrus' promotion; he was one of the few high-ranking veterans left after the war with any significant combat experience. Aside from that, they'd needed a competent leader who had proven himself several times over, and as he had made the mistake of never officially leaving the military...
Not that he could have left his ship anyway. Certain attachments had grown between himself and his crew, and he trusted each one with his life. Even if they were hooligans.
"Just pensive, Lieutenant," he told Renar. "Inform forward that permission to dock is on standby until I take a look.
"Yes sir." The call ended.
He paused only to run a gentle talon along the edge of the picture, then stood easily and made his way across the room to his elevator. Memories could wait, the good and the bad. There was a mission to take care of.
The elevator door hissed softly as it opened, giving Garrus a good view as always of the CIC and assorted bustling crewmembers. It wasn't a combat situation, so there was no sign of overt excitement, but jobs still needed to be done, and on the whole they were done well. He glanced towards the LADAR system briefly as he passed by the detection stations. It was partially obscured by the standing and saluting crewmembers, but he gathered that there was only one small vessel approaching the capital ship - about the size of a frigate, if he estimated correctly.
"Status?" He asked Renar, motioning him to fall in step towards the port view.
"It just came out of the Mass Relay, Admiral. It sent out an Alliance hailing frequency and began moving towards us. If you want, we could just let them smash against the doors." Renar handed him a data pad with the relevant information. He scrolled past the bit about hailing frequencies and looked at the message itself. Standard request to dock, no telling if it was even anything but an automated call.
"No, that would scratch the paint." Renar knew as well as anyone how Garrus felt about the paint. "Send a detail to the docking bay, make sure it's secure."
"Admiral Vakarian!" Garrus suppressed a wince when the secondary communications officer called him. He still wasn't quite used to his rank, proud though it made him. Well, mostly his father, but he couldn't help feeling proud of it himself. A long way to this from a C-Sec officer, he thought wryly. "They're sending another hail. An actual message this time, I think."
"Patch me in." He replied, tapping the comm unit on his omni-tool. He was at the window now, peering down at the frigate, when the light of the nearby sun flashed off the side of it, revealing the designation 'SR-3', and he nearly jumped in shock.
"Hey there, you guys miss us?" That voice over the radio might as well have been a hug from a friend, for all the relief it gave him. And for all intents and purposes, it was.
"Joker!" He said, some of his enthusiasm showing through in his voice, not that he much cared about his image at the moment. "You should've called in advance, I didn't have time to set up a parade."
"Doubt I'd be able to see it past your shiny hull lights anyway. You wanna open that door for us? I don't mind dodging, but c'mon, having to duck under a friendly is just embarrassing."
"Double time it on the dock," He told Renar. "And forget the detail. I'm going down personally."
The Normandy was just as he remembered the old model. Even through a view-port, the splendor wasn't diminished. He had about ten seconds for sightseeing by the time he actually reached the docking area, but he took in as much as he could all the same.
He could still make out the Thanix Cannon on the belly of the vessel (he wondered wryly whether it was calibrated correctly), the dull light cast off the heavy plating, and the thrusters connected to the stealth drive, that miracle of technology. Perhaps he was more attuned to the design because it was partly turian, but he suspected that after so long aboard, he simply recognized and admired its capabilities. That enormous gun didn't hurt anything.
"Admiral."
He turned at yet another familiar voice and was surprised to see Kaidan standing at attention, hand raised in a salute and a small smile playing on his features.
"Kaidan, didn't think I'd be seeing you again anytime soon. How many of the old crew do you all have hiding in there?"
"Me, Joker, Chakwas, Adams...more than you'd think. We set up the crew specifically; it's part of why I'm here. The, ah, Council wanted me to drop by because of history. Coming from anyone else this request would be…strange."
"Request? What are you talking about? You mean you didn't drop by just to see me? I'm hurt, Kaidan, I really am." He said jokingly.
"Well you know how it is. No forward warnings thanks to security."
"Security?" Garrus went through a list of things the council would bring up that both made him necessary and were so important that they didn't dare risk an FTL link. The list was short, and he didn't enjoy the thought of anything on it. "Must be classified."
"Very classified. This isn't just a surprise inspection, Garrus, I'm here to put you back on the team."
That gave him pause. He'd expected that, but it was still a surprise. And out of the blue.
"Well, damn. Anyone else on the list?" His mind leaped instantly to Tali.
"Yeah, but this was the first stop. I'll brief you later on the details." Always waiting for group meetings to save time. Garrus sighed internally. Just like the council.
"No ideas what for, I suppose?"
"None. They say jump…" He shrugged.
"Yeah, I remember how it is." Garrus nodded understandingly. "They're going to be pretty disappointed if they're just handing out a new standard set of orders, though. I can't just leave my ship for something like that."
"I told them that. They authorized me to drop the bomb on you, though, so to speak. Apparently it's an emergency."
Again, Kaidan's tone gave him pause. This was clearly leading up to something big. He couldn't imagine what, though.
"Bomb? You're starting to worry me, Kaidan. What is it this time? Pirate raid? Cerberus?"
"Not exactly. Garrus…"
It was really very amazing, he would reflect later, how simple sentences can shatter a person's world.
"I'm pretty sure this is something to do with Shepard."
To this, there could be only one logical response.
"…Shit."
The lake was beautiful in the morning. The waves curled majestically as the tides pulled them in, sand turning a darker brown as they absorbed the water, the calmer center turning a deeper blue every minute as the sun rose.
She inhaled deeply, savoring the salty fragrance in the air. She found she enjoyed this simple act, once denied her by simple internal weaknesses, now made possible by technology.
She sneezed. Well, and plenty of exposure, and additives. Ah, but it was a wonderful day nonetheless. Broken all too soon by certain...interruptions.
"Creator Tali'Zorah?" Some of which being more tolerable than others.
She turned and glanced upward from her sitting position, breaking into a soft smile at the sight of her friend.
"Yes, Jeddah, what can I do for you?"
The geth platform bent its knees forward so as to lower itself closer to her sitting height. It wasn't necessary for better communication at this distance, but she appreciated the gesture all the same.
"You have a message."
"A message? From who? Because I asked Rann about the new programs, and she said I-"
"From an Alliance Frigate. The Normandy SR-3."
That got her attention. "Keelah. Can you patch it through?"
"Affirmative. Processing." There was a near-inaudible static buzzing in the air for a moment as the geth activated its audio-recording processors.
"Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Rannoch, this is Major Alenko with Council Special Tactics and Reconnaissance requesting your presence aboard at your earliest convenience. We will be docking at the provided coordinates shortly." There was a click as the message ended, but far from feeling excited (which she really should have been, given that it was Kaidan), Tali felt simply disappointed.
"That's it?" She sighed. "Remind me to hit him with something blunt when I get up there."
"That could cause severe trauma depending on what is used to…ah. A joke. I am amused." Jeddah's reply elicited a small chuckle from Tali. She knew that the geth could technically feel and understand emotions, but Jeddah's deadpan delivery of 'I am amused' could always be counted on to cheer her up on its own. She sometimes wondered if that was an intentional effect. Knowing him, that was a good bet.
"What's the location?" She asked.
"Reegar interplanetary docking station two miles south of our current location."
"Right. I'll go and-" She stopped and looked at the geth incredulously. "Did…did you just round up?"
"Affirmative." Jeddah replied with what she could barely tell were traces of pride emanating from its communication module and out of the vocal synthesizer.
"Impressive." She said honestly, checking her omni-tool against the constant flow of data between her and her companion. "You've been upgrading your abstraction matrices manually?"
"Yes. However, analogies and metaphors continue to be a slight problem."
"You mean like those poems you downloaded last week?"
"Yes." Jeddah replied, sounding puzzled. "An eastern Hedrich orchid blossom bears no physical or chemical resemblance to a supernova event."
"Well, they're not supposed to be accurate so much as…evocative. And in all honesty, it generally takes a while to make the right connections, generous amounts of neural pathways or no."
"I did not mean to suggest that I was displeased with my progress, Creator Tali'Zorah. 'All good things in time'."
She chuckled again. "Well quoted. But we should probably go see what all this is about. If I know Kaidan, he isn't here to just say 'hello'. And an excuse to see the Normandy shouldn't be wasted."
"Acknowledged. Do you require an escort?"
She didn't, but given that it was Jeddah, she nodded, standing up and giving one last fleeting look towards the water.
It really was beautiful in the morning. Like the colors of an exploding sun.
The elevator door closed with almost complete silence, aside from the brief click of the lock inside engaging. Tali felt the small room begin to slide upwards to the C.I.C. The Normandy hadn't used a docking port, choosing instead to land directly onto a pad at the Reegar docking station. An airlock passage had been added to the docking bay entrance so that she could simply walk in.
It really wasn't so much an airlock as it was an airtight hallway. It didn't have atmospheric regulators, but she'd had to don her suit anyways, so it wasn't an issue. Well, she thought ruefully as she felt an itch on her skin she couldn't reach past the suit, not much of an issue.
"I hope actually has measurable speed, or I'll have to hack the system." She told Jeddah, only half-joking. In a testament to current inter-species relations, none of the crewmen had even made passing mention of having the geth onboard, and in fact treated them both amicably in the course of their duties. Hopefully she had more than acquaintance to thank for that. She trusted that Ambassador Col'Nah was doing his job, but she did notice quite a few faces from the SR-2 Mk II among the crowd. She wondered if a crowd of strangers would have the same reactions. Or if she wasn't personally involved at all. Quite a few less people tended to mind what you did if you were a Quarian Admiral as well as a Reaper War veteran.
"Are you referring to the inefficient cabling system present in the original Normandy SR-1 vessel that you served aboard?" Jeddah asked.
She laughed. "'Inefficient' is putting it lightly. It took a solar year to go up or down one level." To her satisfaction, however, no sooner had she said this than the door opened again, revealing the wide open Combat Information Center and assorted computers, crew, and of course the galaxy map. She found herself idly humming a tune as she passed it, turning right into the Briefing Room. Once again, she saw familiar faces working along the row of consoles, and even a glimpse of Traynor manning the secure communication center.
Two doors and two saluting crewmen later, pleasant nostalgia hit her in full force. With Garrus, Kaidan, and EDI all there, it almost felt like old times. Though, she did spot a human Alliance marine she didn't recognize with short black hair and a discerning eye scanning the holographic briefing table when she walked in.
All of them looked at her and Jeddah when they entered. Garrus relaxed visibly, the marine smiled a bit, Kaidan saluted, and EDI nodded politely.
"Admiral, welcome to the Normandy. Again." Kaidan said, a hint of a smile forming on his face. He nodded to the marine behind him, answering her question before she had a chance to ask it. "I don't think you've met Colonel Davisson yet."
She joined the group at the table and shook hands with Davisson formally, noting privately his N7 insignia. To her, this meant three things: He was most certainly a genuine asset, whatever Kaidan had brought him in for must then be serious, and he would now be compared directly to Shepard by probably all of them. Because of that last, she felt a sudden pity for the man.
"Pleased to meet you, Colonel." She said, trying to not let the sudden sadness she felt at the thought reach her voice. It got no easier when she looked at Garrus. He looked normal, but his eyes gained a dark quality whenever they looked in Davisson's direction.
"Pleasure's all mine, ma'am." Davisson replied. His grip was firm, but he was surprisingly friendly. And yet...something about him made her feel as though he wasn't entirely genuine. Like he was on autopilot, his mind on something else.
Her train of thought was broken when she noticed that they were all now looking at her companion.
"Oh, right. Everyone, this is Jeddah." She realized rather suddenly that just five years ago, all of them would've been shooting at the platform. Including her. Her brain all but gave up on trying to comprehend that one almost immediately.
"And you'll be joining us?" Kaidan asked Jeddah directly, much to her (pleasant) surprise.
"Affirmative. I am tasked to accompany Creator Tali'Zorah on any interplanetary and extra-planetary expeditions on her request, this being no exception mainly due to lack of data." Tali looked at Kaidan and nodded, her concerns having been voiced. Leave it to Jeddah to find a completely innocent way of asking 'why exactly are we here?'.
"Good." Kaidan said, tapping a few controls on his omni-tool. "I was hoping Tali would at least be able to help with this, but having a geth platform will make it easier."
"Make what easier?" Garrus interjected.
"I suppose since we're all here now is as good a time as any to tell you-"
"Wait, just us?" Garrus cut him off. "I expected there to be more of us here for something like this. Liara and Wrex, at least."
"Wrex is dealing with council business. For all intents and purposes, I'm his eyes and ears here."
"And it is highly probable that Dr. T'Soni is keeping a close eye on these events, even if she is not present." EDI added.
Kaidan didn't answer. He didn't deny it, either. Tali wondered if it irked him to think that Liara was better at cloak and dagger than he was. Instead, he extended his left arm, and his omni-tool emitted a very strange low tone. It sounded hauntingly familiar to Tali, but apparently not to anyone else.
"What the hell was that?" Garrus asked.
"Unrecognized data stream. Processing." Jeddah said.
"That noise…it almost sounded like…" Tali began.
"That transmission was very similar to previous communications observed between Reaper fleets." EDI confirmed her suspicions.
Garrus spoke next, shocked. "Reaper code. Where did you get that?"
"It was transmitted directly to the private council FTL database two days ago. They ran a trace, and as best they could tell, the transmission literally came from nowhere; a section of the Citadel we had no idea even existed." Kaidan looked at Jeddah. "Can you make any sense of it?"
"Process complete. Cross-referencing previous Reaper conversations revealed little. It appears to be an amalgam of standard binary, reaper code, and various untranslated alien languages."
Tali sighed. "So we have no idea."
"Negative. It says 'Cage Free Death Hold Escape Resist'. Notification: The language itself is erratic and incoherent, and thus synonyms or homonyms may be present."
There was silence.
"Well that sounds like rainbows and sunshine." Davisson muttered grimly.
"Just to be sure, are we going up against an actual Reaper?" Garrus asked. "Because if we are, we're going to need a bigger cannon. And a fleet. Or, ah, six."
"I don't know." Kaidan admitted. "But that's what we need to find out."
Davisson grimaced. "Sir, if we're going in blind with 'Reaper' as the worst possible threat, I'm going to need more pre-mission time to compose my epitaph."
"That is unlikely." EDI assured him. "The Crucible destroyed all of the Reapers in the galaxy. None remain."
"And if it is a Reaper, you don't have to worry about an epitaph. There won't be enough left of any of us to bury." Garrus said viciously to Davisson, whose gaze immediately dropped.
There was more silence, another pause.
"Sorry." Garrus muttered. Davisson nodded understandingly.
"What are we even expecting to find?" Tali asked, mostly to break the tension. "Rubble?"
"In the second-worst case scenario, giant space bears." EDI said. The sheer absurdity of the statement somehow managed to remove the tension in the room. Davisson snickered involuntarily, and even Garrus looked somewhat mollified by the joke.
"Ah…barring giant space bears…" Kaidan continued, looking bemused. "This is a mission all of us have been on before. Go in, find the signal source, get out. Simple."
"Tch. Nothing's ever simple, Kaidan." Garrus looked up at him. "You remember 'just go and find the plant' on Feros, right?"
"Ugh, don't remind me." Tali groaned. "Getting that sludge out of your suit systems was a nightmare."
"As simple as it gets for us, then." Kaidan smirked.
The table's comm unit flickered, and Joker's voice poured through. "We're circling the Citadel and ready to dock. You have a location?"
"Sending coordinates now, Joker." Kaidan adjusted a panel on his omni-tool and sent the relevant data. There was a brief halt in conversation on the other end, then…
"Uh, Kaidan? You know this leads to a big wall of nothing, right?"
"I do. They have a mining station planted against that wall. There's a series of tunnels that'll lead us where we need to go."
"All right. You're paying if I get the paint scratched, though." Tali rolled her eyes and, not for the first time, wondered what it was with Joker, Garrus, and ship hull paint.
They proceeded to the armory before the Normandy docked at the mining station. Jeddah alone refused to carry a weapon, which caused Kaidan some consternation before it was explained that, by choice, the geth did not harm sentient life, and in the case of non-sentients, the technical armaments contained in its chassis would be more than sufficient. Neither of them mentioned what those technical armaments were, mostly because they construed slight overkill.
The rest of them chose their usual loadouts from the last times they had been in combat situations: a Scorpion and Locust for EDI, Kaidan found a Phaeston and Carnifex in the back, Garrus mulled his decision over somewhat before deciding on the Vindicator and Mantis, and Tali herself took a Scimitar. She'd had the foresight to pack her old Arc Pistol, so fortunately she only needed one other weapon.
Tali noted that everyone's readiness determined how long it had been since they'd seen combat. For her, she'd barely picked up a weapon for months. Garrus and Kaidan, on the other hand, must have seen combat fairly recently, because they looked like their choices were on instinct. EDI didn't have a shelf life on her memory, so she didn't have any hesitation anyway.
She glanced over at Davisson and saw that he hadn't actually taken any weapons from the ships' stocks. Instead, he obtained two rifles from a locker that he'd apparently stored his gear in. She hadn't seen the likes of either of them before. One looked like a cross between a Mantis and a Widow, the other some sort of shotgun/assault rifle hybrid. His actions were a bit slowed, so Tali assumed he had some combat experienced, but not the kind that had been honed in a while. She could related
Soon after, the six of them proceeded to the docking bay, the doors of which were already open. A volus was awaiting them just outside.
"So…nice of you…to join us…at last…" He said between inhalations. "I…assume…you are…the Spectre...who we've been…waiting for?"
"That's correct." Kaidan nodded. "Are the tunnels ready?"
"Of a…sort. They are…open…but we've had some…problems."
"What kind of problems?" Garrus asked impatiently.
"Keeper…problems. They are…all over this…section. And they seem to have…gone berserk."
"Well that's just great." Garrus sighed, looking at Kaidan. "'Simple', huh? At least we thought to bring guns."
"What kind of berserk?" Tali asked, curious.
"They will…attempt clawing…and then, ah…explode." The volus sighed, motioning behind him to a full medical building. "We've had…injuries. The explosions aren't…enough to cause…structural damage…to the tunnels…but they pass through…kinetic barriers."
"Well that's reassuring." Tali looked at Garrus. "I think I'll just be standing behind those of us with more structurally sound armor and, ah, bodies."
"Figures." Garrus checked his Vindicator's firing system idly. "Once again I get relegated to the enviable task of 'meat shield'."
"Perhaps if you were composed of something stronger than meat, it wouldn't be a problem." EDI told him.
"Good point. Let's send you and the geth in first, then."
"Jeddah." Tali corrected him calmly, but firmly.
Kaidan sighed. "Don't worry, we'll take care of the situation. Have you been briefed on where to send us?"
"Yes." The volus said dryly. "You'll want to…take this…" He gave Kaidan a data pad. "It's…a highlighted map...of the area. I need to…get back...to my job. Best of luck."
"So what's the plan?" Davisson asked. "Guns blazing?"
"If the keepers are out of control, I don't think we'll have any other choice." Kaidan tapped his helmet, activating the visor.
"Well there's no point just standing around." Garrus ejected a perfectly fine thermal clip for really no other reason than to hear the satisfying noise it produced. "Let's go."