Chapter Seven

Please allow me to introduce myself ...

I pulled my sidearm as I spun towards the voice.

I didn't see anything, there were several shadowed areas, and I guessed she was in one of them. Then I realized my visor wasn't engaged. I tapped it on, and an infrared image of a small female human appeared a few meters away. How had she gotten so close?

In my best C-Sec voice. "Do not move. Put your hands where I can see them."

"Uhh. Which one?" She replied.

"Which one what?"

"Don't move or put my hands where you can see them? You can't do both." More inquisitive than sarcastic. "Hmm, I guess I coouuld do both. But. That wouldn't be … what you asked." She continued.

What the …? "Just … just put your hands where I can see them."

"OK." Then with both her hands open, she put them out in front of her. "Better?" She asked.

"Up. Over your head." My C-Sec voice becoming second nature.

"What?"

"Put your hands over your head."

"Why didn't you say that to begin with?" Still no underlying sarcasm in her tone. She starts to raise her hands, then stops. "Wait. If you know my hands aren't over my head, then that … "

She steps forward and points at me. "That means you can see me. And, that means ..." She walks a couple more paces toward me. "You can see my hands." She waves them palms out in front her. "See. What are you looking for anyway?"

Really? Has this person never seen a cop show? Exasperated. "A weapon."

"Nope." She drops her hands by her sides and pushes herself up on a piece of plasti-crete, slides back, legs dangling. She crosses her arms across her chest, and shakes her head. "Nope. No weapon, sorry."

Then, in a gesture I've seen more times than I know, she cants her head to the left. Scratches her head, then runs her hand back through her hair, three times. On the third time, she tucks it behind her ear.

I stared for a moment. I remember the end of our first mission together, Shepard did that very same thing. She'd taken her helmet off, shook her head, then did that exact same gesture. Exact. Strangely, I found it very endearing, and incredibly feminine. She caught me looking, and with a smile, asked, "What?" I'd just shaken my head and said "It's .. nothing." I wasn't going to admit that for a moment I saw her as a female, not Commander Shepard.

The sound of movement brings me out of my reverie. I focus on the new arrival as she points at me with her right hand. "No. Wait. I lied. Well, forgot really. I have a knife." She reaches for her ankle. "Right here. Small one. Want to see it? It's kinda cute. It has this-"

A little unnerved by her nonchalance, and the eerie similarity in the way she played with her hair, I barked, cutting her off. "Dammit. Put your hands over your head."

She crossed her arms over her chest, and while I couldn't make out any details, I'd bet she was pouting. "No."

I began to wonder what the odds were in encountering the only scatterbrained human on Palaven. "Place your hands over your head, NOW."

She shook her head. "No."

I exhaled slowly, and fired a round a half a meter off her right side. "Now. Put your hands over your head." I yelled.

She jumped off to her left, and stayed in the crouched position, yelling. "What the fuck?! Are you out of your mind? What the fuck is wrong with you?" The last as she straightened up, and slowly put her arms up.

"Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with you?" She started towards me. "I mean fuck … you could've shot me." She stopped after only a couple steps. Then muttered to herself. "What a fucking asshole. Fuck. I mean really, who the fuck does that shit ..."

"Uh, you know I can hear you. And I-" Started to reply, when she interrupted.

"Well good for fucking you. Can you hear this? You're an asshole." While the imaging wasn't really there, I could tell she was glaring at me. But also scared, her vitals were way up, and there was a slight tremolo in her voice.

I reached for my flashlight, it wasn't there. I heard her continue to mutter as I looked around for it. Thinking I may have dropped it when I laid down on the bench, I backed toward it.

"Hey. Where are you going, mister just-fucking-shoot-people?" She yelled. But, her hands were still up.

"Looking for my flashlight." Then looking at her. "And you know, just for the record. If I actually wanted to shoot you. I would have." I went back to scanning the ground.

"Well isn't that comforting. … Fucking asshole." Then in a lowered growly voice. "If I wanted to shoot you, I would have." When she went back to muttering, I could tell I was still the object of her wrath.

Well, you shouldn't sneak up on a Turian at night. Just the fact you were able to sneak up is enough to get you harmed. It's kind of embarrassing.

I half listened to her grumble while searching, when she said something that gave me pause. " … I can't fucking believe I came all this way for a fucking psycho ..."

I stopped, looked at her, and asked. "Wait. What did you just say?"

She grumbled for a couple more seconds, then asked. "Huh. Uh, were you talking to me?"

"Yes. I asked what did you say earlier?"

"When?"

I began to think her whole goal in life was to annoy the shit out of me.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"When. You. Said. I. Can't. Believe. I. Came. All. This. Way. For. A.-"

"What about it? Don't worry about it. As soon as you let me go, I'll ..." She dropped her right arm, flexed it, put it back up. Then did the same with her left. "Hey dickhead. How long do I have to keep my arms up?"

Dickhead. That actually amused me. "Until I say so." I replied.

Lowered mocking voice again. "Until I say so." Shaking her head, back to grumbling. "What an ass..."

Scanning the ground, and trying to keep an eye on her, I half listened to her grumblings.

" … what an asshole ..."

" … he should put HIS fucking hands up … he's the one shooting ..."

" … dickhead ...I can't believe ..."

" … traveled all this way … for nothing … nothing"

I stopped, and took a couple steps toward her. "What do you mean you traveled all this way for nothing?"

"Huh?"

"I said, what did you mean when you said you traveled all this way for nothing?"

"Don't worry about it. As soon as we're done with … with … playing Officer Dickhead, or whatever it is you're doing, I'm outta here." She dropped her arms, moved over and hoisted herself back on to the chunk of plasti-crete.

I motioned with my pistol, and began to remind her to raise her arms, but she wasn't having any of that.

"No. I'm done. I told you I don't have a weapon, well, just a knife ..." When she reached down, I gave her a warning.

"Ah-ah. Slowly" Her response was to flip me off with her left hand. She pulled the knife out of either her boot or an ankle sheath, and lobbed it towards me. It clanked and bounced on the sidewalk off to my right.

"There. Now you have all the weapons. Feel better?"

"I would still appreciate no sudden movements."

"Same here." She replied.

"Look. Let me find my flashlight. Make sure every thing's clear, and we'll go our separate ways. OK? Unless you want to tell me why you're here." I added quickly.

"What do you mean, 'every thing's clear'?" She snapped. "You are not searching me. Don't even think about it."

I reached down and picked up the knife, while keeping one eye on her. I held it up to what light there was, and she was right, it wasn't very big. About 25 centimeters, most of it the handle. It had a 10 centimeter diamond-shaped double edged blade, with grooves on the apex of each side. I wish I had my light, if they were what I thought they were, not a cute knife at all.

"You. Are. Not. Touching. Me." She kept talking while I'd studied the knife. "Are we clear on that?"

"Why do you have this knife?" I asked, still holding it up to the light.

"Are we clear on you not touching me?"

I began to wonder what she might be hiding, then I stopped. She has been cooperative, and she's a lone human female, it's dark, and I have been a little …. I sighed.

"Yes. We are clear. I would really like to know why you have that knife though."

"Protection. Why?"

"Protection? From … who? Spirits, this is a … Where did you get this?"

A hint of exasperation in her tone. "From a friend. Why?"

Without responding, I moved back towards the bench, alternating between searching and watching her. I caught a glimpse of a shadowed rounded shape by one of the legs. I placed the knife on the bench, and with my left hand, reached down and grabbed the flashlight.

Once I was back upright, I checked in on my new friend. She was just sitting there, humming, her legs swinging back and forth. Her vitals were slightly elevated, but …

Content that she wasn't an overt threat at the moment, I squatted down and studied the knife. An exquisite example of design and execution. Execution being the key word however, it's an assassin's blade. And, just happens to be banned in Council space.

Either my new friend is from the Terminus systems, or her friends are.

The blade was obsidian black, the handle matte black, with a Smarture® grip, adaptable for three or five digits. The only color on the blade was a red groove on one apex of the blade, blue on the other. Fast acting toxins, for both levo and dextro based life forms.

Introducing the Tox-Sen Mk. VII®

Now YOU can own the weapon the Council deemed too dangerous for Citadel space. When you arm your organization with the Tox-Sen Seven® (Patent Pending in some regions), you're giving them with the BEST. And with our patented toxin delivery system, all wounds are fatal wounds.

Arm your organization with the Tox-Sen Seven® (Patent Pending in some regions) , and you're guaranteed to come out a WINNER.

I'd seen the ads several times on Omega.

Omega. I never want to see that place again.

Right. Another set of bad memories.

Spirits, I hope to never have to go there again. Just the thought of …

Shit. Stay focused, Vakarian.

OK, so allegedly the toxins are inert until exposed to blood, then any wound becomes a fatal wound. Just becomes a matter of time.

There are rumors that some military's are capable of counteracting the toxins, but I've never seen or heard of it.

I think it's time to have a serious chat with my new friend.

Keeping my gun trained on her, I tried a new tact. "I think maybe it's time we introduced ourselves." She looked up at that. "I'm Gar-"

"I know who you are." She said as she jumped down from the debris. "And I am Kayla Wadriani." She even gave a short bow, stretching her arms with a flourish and all.

"Nice to meet you, Kayla. You still seem to have me at a disadvantage though. You-"

"Not much of one either."

"Not much of-"

And it's the only one that I can see." She hadn't moved since she'd jumped off the plasti-crete. Well, not quite true, she put her hands on her hips, but no forward movement.

I started to reply, when she continued. "Unless there's some great advantage I have over you that I can't see." Huh? Again, I started a reply. "What do-..."

It seems, … it seems she wasn't finished.

She was just getting started. "Because the way I see it, you … YOU, have all the advantages. Hell, I even GAVE you my knife. My only weapon. You have a gun. Which you seem to like to shoot. So now … now I -"

My turn to interrupt. "Yes, let's talk about your knife, shall we? And keep your hands where I can see them, please."

"OK. You have it, it's in your possession, what's the problem now? You want the sheath? Ohhh, maybe I'm a ninja assassin. IS that it?" With a heavy dose of sarcasm in her voice she shook her head. Back to her mockingly lowered voice. "Ohh, look at me, I'm a ninja." She dropped into a crouch, then spun around, ending with a kick straight out.

It was, an incredibly amusing display.

"Cute. But. The fact remains, it is a seriously dangerous weapon."

She had moved out of her crouch and folded her arms across her chest. "Yeah, like your gun isn't? What's the point of having a weapon if it isn't dangerous? She made a snorting sound. "I mean, shit … if it isn't dangerous, may as well hold a flower."

She jumped back to her crouch, shaking her right arm in front of her. "Or a dead fish."

She stood back up, both arms in front, then began to pantomime writing. In her lowered voice. "And what happened here, sir?"

Then she turned to her right, put her hands on her head, and in a high pitched voice. "It was horrible. I was sooo scared. He came at me with a fish. A dead one. I … I … I didn't know what to do. So I shot him."

Spinning to her left, and with the lowered voice. "Well, that seems a little extreme. I mean you could have-"

A quick spin to the right, hands back on head, shrieking. "But he also had a flower in his breast pocket."

Back to her left, pantomimes snapping a notebook closed. "Oh, well very good then. Nothing else you could have done. Carry on." She begins to wave her right arm. "All right folks. Nothing to see here. Keep moving."

What an odd person.

"You are … an... interesting person. I'll say that. Now, if you pl-"

"Then say it."

"What?"

"Say that I'm an interesting person."

What? "I just did. Why would I-"

"I know. I'm just fucking with you. So you were saying?"

Spirits save me from this person. She is either a scatterbrained idiot, a genius, or the cleverest assassin I've ever met. I'm not sure if I could choose which one right now.

Exhale.

"How about if you just step into the light. That way I don't have to blind you with the flashlight." I'm sure I sounded reasonable.

"About time." And she started forward. All was fine until she hit the light.

Looking back, I may have overreacted. Maybe.

She couldn't have looked more insolent if she'd been chewing gum and swaying her hips. That lasted until her face resolved under the light. For a second I was sure I'd seen her before, then …

If the events on the Citadel, and the fight to regain the Normandy had never happened, I'm sure my greeting would have been much more pleasant. Unfortunately, they were still fresh in my mind, so my greeting was … less than pleasant.

"Get your fucking hands up NOW." I flicked the flashlight on, aiming at her face. She grimaced and shielded her eyes with her hands. "Spirits fucking dammit. Get your hands up."

"What the fuck. Turn that fucking light off." She yelled.

"I swear to all. If you do not put your hands over your head right now. I WILL shoot you."

"Jesus fucking Christ. What is your problem?! And get that god-damned light out of my eyes." We were both yelling now.

I scanned her with the light, getting it out of her eyes, She still hadn't put her hands up. So I fired a round in the air.

She screamed, and ducked her head.

"Put your fucking hands up. I'm not fucking around here."

"FUCK YOU" She did put her hands up though.

Some time ago, while killing time, Jeff showed me a picture of Shepard taken a couple months before she enlisted. If Kayla had auburn hair instead of blond, she would look exactly like the photo.

"Shit. How many of you did they make?"

And when the hell did they … decant? … hatch? … birth? … her? She looked young, much younger than the first clone. And not an exact duplicate either. A different tactic? Or forced by events of the war? More importantly, why another?

Divesting themselves of the investment, maybe? Revenge plot?

"Why another?" I mused out loud.

She sniffed, and looked up. Her eyes were red, was she crying? "Another? I have a sister?" Almost hopeful. She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands.

I should've been more insistent about her getting her hands back up, but she looked pretty vulnerable right now, so I let it go. I sighed, and hoped it wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass.

"Had. If that's what you call yourselves. Or would it be daughter … I guess sister. Hell, I don't know." I was thinking out loud as opposed to answering her question. Though I guess the clones would be sisters.

They would be daughters to the original, at least that's how I understood the nomenclature to be. But aren't clones taken from the preceding one? Or do they all come from the original, and … I guess grown when needed.

"Hey. You'd think you'd know this after spending all that time with humans, but then they never mentioned what an asshole you are, so maybe nobody ever told you. But, yes, we call female siblings sisters, and male siblings brothers." She may look vulnerable, but there was a lot of vehemence in her voice.

"What do you call them? Or do you guys just fire guns?" Back to her mocking voice. "Bam-bam-bam-bam. Oh, sorry Mom, I was calling Dad, not you. I guess I got excited and fired one too many rounds. Heh-heh-heh." She glared at me for a second then shook her head.

I paused my musing, and really looked at her. I don't know what to think. She was definitely young, and the events of the last couple minutes, and maybe my actions, seem to have strung her out.

"It's not exactly the same, but brother and sister are close enough to what we say."

Quietly. "Do you know where she is?"

I sighed. "We … we killed her."

She paled, and slumped her head.

"She almost succeeded in killing us, we didn't have a choice. Shepard tried to save her, but … it didn't work out. I guess they didn't tell you that, huh."

Eyes narrowed. "Who would tell me what?"

"Never mind. What I have a problem with, is why you don't look exactly like her? Did they … hatch you early, is that why y-"

She moved so fast, and so light, that at first I thought it was a biotic charge.

"I have had enough of you. I could almost, almost, handle you being a total dick, but a racist piece of shit also? Fuck man, what is wrong with you? Shit ..." She started poking me in the chest, I'm not sure why, since I was wearing armor.

She shook her head. "I read all about you before ...I … they never once said anything about you being this big of an asshole. Shit, they made you out to be the nicest guy. Did they actually meet you?" She paused, never wavering from her glare. I took the pause to try and rebut … well pretty much everything she just said.

"Now hold on -" She powered right through me.

"You don't get to speak. You have done nothing but treat me like shit. So, now I-" I cut her off. I was going to get my side in.

"Dammit. You-" If I hadn't experienced what happened next, I wouldn't have believed it. I'm still not sure. With her right hand she grabbed the cowl of my armor, and pulls herself up, then, I found this both amazing and amusing, plants her left hand across my mouth.

"No talking." Her face was just a few centimeters from mine, her eyes had the same burning intensity Shepard would get when focused on something. "You don't get to talk."

I just stared at her. Then nodded. It must have been shock, because I just nodded.

She gave me a small nod back, then dropped off me. I just looked at her.

Stunned into silence.

She held a finger. "First, we do NOT hatch. WE give birth. We are not birds, which … which I know you know... so why would you say something so mean?"

"Are you always this ..." Stopping, she pushed the hair out of her face, then mumbled. "I made a serious mistake."

She turned around, and started to walk off, then stopped. "Where's my knife?" She asked.

"It's on the bench. But, I can't let you have it. I'm sorry."

She made a snorting sound, then laughed. "Figures. Fuck it." She started walking off, then stopped again. "I can't believe I...' She turned around, and in a quiet voice. "What did she see in you?"

She turned and headed down the walk.

"Hey. Wait. Where are you going?" I called out.

Her left arm shot straight up with middle finger extended. "What do you care?"

She was the strangest human I have ever met.

I grabbed the knife, put it in the utility pouch in my armor, then walked after her.

"Hey. Look. I'm sorry. I thought clones were hatched. I swear. I didn't know." I called out.

She stopped and turned around. A mildly perplexed look on her face. "What the fuck do clones have to do with anything?" Then turned back and started off again.

"Well, I-" Started out to say, but as is her forte', she cut me off.

"Wait" She stopped, turned around, and marched, literally marched back towards me. "You think I'm a clone?"

"Uh. Well, yeah. Not like it hasn't happened before." Looking down on her as she stopped right in front of me.

She looked up at me, then tilted her head to the side. Please don't do the hair thing. Sigh, she did it. I just sighed.

"That's what you were talking about, she had a clone?"

I nodded. "Cerberus made a clone, or I guess clones, when they rebuilt her. Just in case, they ..." I debated, then decided to be blunt. "Just in case they needed parts." She winced at that, and I nodded my agreement. "Except one … got away."

"What happened?"

"Well, it seemed to think that the only way for it to live was to kill Shepard. Then it would take her place. It almost succeeded too."

"Really? Huh. I never heard about it, or read about it. And I've read-"

"We covered it up." She gave me a questioning look. "With the war on, we didn't want anyone to doubt Shepard, so we had it classified. Make sense?"

She nodded.

"I thought that was the last but..."

"You do think I'm a clone, don't you?"

"Yes. Seems the likeliest. Except for a couple things I don't understand. But yeah, I do. Sorry."

Pushing her hair back out of her face, and cocking a hip. "As far as I know, I'm not a clone. Sorry." She gave an impish smile.

"Look, I'm not trying to be rude." She gave a snorting sound at that. "Yeah, OK, that's fair. But, think about it. Would you even know?"

Nodding. "Yeah. OK. I get what you're saying." She reached into her pocket, felt around, then pulled her hand out. Then she held it up to me, she was holding a data chip. Then added. "So I do know."

"OK. Sorry. You just look so much like her …. I thought...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend."

"Well, she was my mom if that helps clear it up."

No. Not really. But thank you anyway.