2. When in doubt...
Standing in the gaming area of Flux, Williams and Storm eyed the scary-blank look on the faces of the more hardcore gamblers as they sat hunched before the Quasar machines, mechanically slotting credits in and pressing the shiny buttons.
"And I thought husks looked dead-eyed," Williams said as she and the LT walked by the high-stakes machines and found a pair of unoccupied low-stakes Quasar stations. Storm had a self-imposed limit on how much to gamble: She'd leave when one of two things happened - either she doubled her starting money or lost it all.
Breaking even after several games, Storm noted a blinking indicator on her omni-tool and pushed herself away from the Quasar machine. "I prefer blackjack with real cards," she muttered to herself as she tapped a command into her omni-tool, setting it to triangulate the signal it had picked up. The omni bleeped and, as she moved through the club patrons, the bleeping sped up, indicating she was heading in the right direction. Soon she stood before a Quasar machine tucked against the far wall. It seemed identical to every other machine here but something about it had tripped the omni-tool's sensor array.
Storm looked over her shoulder to see if she was being watched but the gamblers were still gambling and the volus bartender was mixing cocktails. Storm turned back to the machine and used her Bluewire's wireless connections to interface with the Quasar's systems. "Well, well..." Storm said quietly to herself as the Bluewire detected the siphoning of credits from the machine to an unknown location, the signal from the gambling machine being bounced through a series of points throughout the Citadel to make tracking it more difficult.
By now Williams had joined her and peered over her shoulder at the machine. "What's up, LT?" she asked.
"Seems like somebody's diverting credits from this machine to an unknown location," Storm turned to the other woman, "Wanna play detective?"
Williams made a show of looking around the club. "Gee, LT. I dunno, there's so much going on here! I'd hate to miss anything!"
Storm laughed softly. "Fall in."
"Aye, Ma'am."
---
After following the signal through what isn't the length and breadth of the Citadel but feels like it, Storm and Williams arrive at the Emporium in the Presidium level.
"Signal's coming from the back room behind that hanar," Storm says, nodding towards the gently glowing pink jellyfish-like creature floating in the centre of the room.
The hanar sees them (though how it accomplishes this with no apparent optical organs, Storm isn't sure) and floats towards them.
"This one offers greetings, humans," the hanar begins. "Welcome to its decadent emporium. Please take time to browse the fantastic items it has for sale."
Something about the way her translation protocol says 'fantastic items' sets Storms teeth on edge but she merely nods and begins browsing the hanar's fantastic items, feigning an interest in a copy of the Complete Works of Shakespeare. "Light bedtime reading," she says, pointing out the rather thick volume. As they move through the displays, Storm and Williams edge ever closer to the rear area and the signal emanating from there.
The hanar floats towards another pair of would-be customers, an asari and turian, no doubt to enthuse about its fantastic items and as Storm is about to duck into the rear area, she catches sight of something that doesn't require her to feign interest - a portable electric keyboard. She can't take the hulking great piano with real ivory keys that sits in her parents' house but this, this she can fold up and take with her on the Normandy.
"Ma'am?" Williams asks, resisting an urge to drag the LT away from the keyboard before she begins to...
Too late. Unselfconsciously, Hailstorm powers on the keyboard and plays a few bars of the Moonlight Sonata before segueing into John Lennon's Imagine.
"Imagine there's no heaven," Storm gently sings while Williams stands tapping a foot nervously. This is the LT's idea of not drawing attention? "It's easy if you try," Storm continues. "No hell below us, above us only sky..."
"Is the other perhaps interested in purchasing the item?" the hanar asks from directly behind Storm, having floated silently behind her.
"Jesus!" Storm blurts and spins around. "Uh..." she glances back at the keyboard. Eh, you only live once. "Do you deliver?" she asks.
With the logistics of delivery and payment eventually settled, the hanar moves on to assist other customers, leaving Storm and Williams free to finally investigate the origin of the signal.
"We came all this way and it's a freaking computer terminal?" Williams shakes her head in exasperation upon seeing the dull grey computer terminal tucked against the wall. Status lights blink on and off before burning a bright red.
"Probability of detection: one hundred percent," a synthesised male voice addresses them from the terminal.
"Well this is unexpected," Storm says dryly as she shuts down her omni-tool.
"Attention all organics within lethal radius: attempt to move and be destroyed."
"Sooo what's an AI like you doing in a place like this?" Storm quips, eliciting a laugh from Williams.
Sobering up, Storm fires up her omni-tool and begins a battle of wits with the computer, attempting to shut it down before it can complete its self-destruction routines and turn both her and Williams into a fine red mist.
Williams observes the LT for several seconds, noting the look of intense concentration on her face as she tries first one thing and then another. Then Williams' gaze lights on something in the corner and she bends over it.
Straightening up she says, "Lieutenant?" and gets no reply.
"Lieutenant?" she tries again.
"I'm kinda busy here trying to prevent us both being vaporised, Williams," Storm says without looking up.
Williams sighs deeply. "Lieutenant!"
"What?!" Storm barks at her over her shoulder. Williams merely reaches down and unplugs the computer from the wall outlet.
The terminal shuts down and the lights go dark. The faint hum of power from the terminal dwindles away to silence as the drives spin down.
For several seconds Storm can only stand motionless, mouth slightly ajar, staring at the Gunnery Chief as Williams nonchalantly twirls the unplugged power cable around like a lasso before dropping it. Shrugging, Williams says, "You know what they say: when in doubt, yank it out."
---
Shepard exited the elevator onto the Presidium, having completed her business before the Council. Her former commanding officer aboard the Normandy, David Anderson, now the human representative on the Council seemed to have been genuinely apologetic about her being made to come out here rather than have the Council address her via a secure comm channel. The other Council members had acted as though her being summoned from the other end of the galaxy just so they could talk at her for an hour was perfectly reasonable on their part.
As she made her way through the crowds, long strides carrying her rapidly away from the Tower, Shepard loosened the top button of her uniform, freeing herself from the collar that seemed to be intent on slowly choking her and sighed heavily. In the six months since the battle for the Citadel, neither she nor any other Spectres had turned up anything that may lead them to where the rest of the Reapers had concealed themselves in dark space.
Finally, the Council had called her before them to explain her lack of progress. Keeping a tight rein on her growing anger and frustration, Shepard had explained that, even after six months of intense study by dozens of scholars well versed in Prothean history, only a very small amount of the data from the archives on Ilos had been deciphered. And, so far at least, none of it shined any light as to the whereabouts of the Reapers.
"So, Commander," the turian said snidely, "What you are telling us is that you have found nothing?"
"No, Councillor. What I am telling you is that so far, the researchers sent to Ilos haven't been able to decipher anything of value as far as locating the Reapers is concerned." Shepard had shrugged awkwardly, "On the upside, the researchers have been going absolutely batshit over the depth of information pertaining to many aspects of Prothean civilisation that has been uncovered. Purely from an archaeological viewpoint, Ilos is the greatest discovery ever made." And you idiots grounded me. Nice going.
"Be that as it may, Commander," the salarian deigned to speak, "We are still at what you humans call 'square one.' So for now, we have a new assignment for you."
With a monumental effort, Shepard had resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead she glanced briefly at Anderson. The months spent rebuilding the damaged parts of the Citadel following the geth attack and restoring order had taken a toll on the man. His close-cropped black hair was noticeably greyer at the temples and he looked as though he hadn't slept fully in weeks. He nodded fractionally at Shepard and she allowed herself to relax slightly.
"A human colony in the Traverse has gone silent, Commander," Anderson addressed her. "We want you to get onsite as soon as possible and investigate."
"How long has the colony been quiet?" Shepard had asked. Knowing my luck, the place has already been razed to the ground by pirates.
"The last scheduled Alliance patrol reported no troubles. That was two weeks ago," the asari reported. "The next patrol isn't scheduled until a month. We need confirmation on the fate of the colonists soonest, Commander."
Shepard nodded. This she could do. "I'll cancel all leaves and depart immediately, Councillors."
The asari nodded regally. "This session of the Council is now closed."
As Shepard made her way through the milling crowds towards the nearest mass transit hub, she became aware of a voice calling her name. Turning, Shepard was met by a small girl and a woman about her own age, likely the girl's mother.
"Commander Shepard?" the little girl asked, serious-looking dark eyes seeming to light up as Shepard turned to face her. The little girl's hand was held by her mother and the girl pulled on her mother's arm repeatedly, dragging them both towards Shepard. A small smile crept over Shepard's lips. She had never seen herself as the maternal type but the kid was cute and probably got her own way all the time. She'll be a handful when she's older.
"I'm so sorry, Commander," the mother said, "April's a massive fan." The small child, April, nodded enthusiastically, brown pigtails bouncing up and down.
"April?" Shepard began, kneeling beside the child, "That's a pretty name."
April pointed at Shepard's sling. "What happened to your arm?"
Shepard smiled, "One of my officers dislocated it during sparring practice."
"Oh," April said, eyes wide. "Did you put him in jail?"
"April!" her mother hissed, mortified.
Shepard laughed. "It's fine, really. And no, I didn't throw her in jail. It was an accident."
Turning serious again, April said solemnly, "When I grow up, I want to be just like you."
"I..." Shepard trailed off, thinking, No you don't want to be like me when you grow up, sweetie. You really don't. Standing straight again, Shepard spoke to April's mother. "Keep her safe, will you? And if you can, persuade her to become something other than a soldier. A bright girl like her deserves a chance to really flourish."
"Thank you, Commander Shepard," April's mother said, "Thank you."
---
Reboarding the Normandy and clearing decon, the first thing Shepard hears is the sound of piano music coming from...somewhere. Head cocked to one side, Shepard listens long enough to place the tune. She thinks it's Fur Elise. Stepping into the bridge, where it seems Joker has become part of the very ship, Shepard asks, "What's with the music?"
Without looking around, Joker replies, "Hailstorm thought it'd be a hoot to buy herself a keyboard...and then hook it up to the ship's PA system." Shaking his head, Joker finally looks at Shepard. With a single glance, he notes the unbuttoned uniform and the look in Shepard's eyes. "We shipping out again?" he predicts.
Shepard nods. "I don't like to cancel leave, but there's a potential problem with an Alliance colony in the Traverse..."
Joker snorts laughter, "A potential problem," he drawls. "In the Traverse. So it's business as usual?"
"How long 'til we ship out?"
"Adams just completed yet another systems check...that man needs to get out more. And I'm aware of the irony in me saying that, so don't even go there."
"What, me?" Shepard deadpans.
"Yeah, anyway, as soon as the last of the troops get back, we can blow this pop stand."
When she arrives in the garage, having divested herself of her dress uniform in her quarters, Shepard notes that Storm, at her new keyboard, has won herself a few admirers. Mike the Requisitions Officer stands beside Private Fredericks. Williams, at her workstation cocks her head to listen. It ain't Wordsworth, she thinks, but damn the LT can play.
Storm sits at the keyboard, eyes half closed and a fawaway look on her face as her hands and fingers move gracefully up and down the keyboard. The tune comes to an end and the few onlookers applaud. Storm smiles. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all week." Just now seeing the Commander, she says, "Commander, hey. Any requests?"
With a smirk, Shepard replies, "Can you do Chopsticks?"
Storm sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. "Commander, I learned to play that when I was four." With a roll of her hazel eyes, Storm dutifully plays the old chestnut.
Coming to a halt again, Storm stands up behind the keyboard, powers it down and folds it away, stowing it in her locker. It's a tight fit but Storm manages to get the instrument settled in alongside her sidearm and sniper rifle. The small crowd drift away to their duties and Storm steps up to the Commander. "What's the word?"
Shepard leans against the hull of the Mako and Storm joins her, arms folded over her chest. "We're going into the Traverse."
"Oh joy of joys," Storm mutters. "Let me guess, colony not phoning home?"
Shepard merely nods and Storm sighs. This happens far too often and, most times, people back home hardly hear of it. It's only when the large, well established colonies like Eden Prime or Mindnoir get reamed that people sit up and take notice. "Which colony is it?"
Eyes closed, Shepard summons up a mental image of the briefing notes. "Aurion, in the Hera system."
Storm's eyes narrow in thought. "Aurion?"
"Apparently it's Greek for dawn or something."
"No, not that. Apparently, the star at the heart of the Hera system has a lot of sunspot activity at the moment...big increase in electromagnetic radiation, gamma rays, X-rays, all that fun stuff. Could be playing merry hob with the colony's comm systems."
Shepard nods, considering this. "Of course, any half-awake pirate band could use the communications blackout to launch a series of raids, knowing the colony can't call for help."
Pushing herself away from the M35 Storm says dryly, "You're just a little ray of sunshine, aren't you, Shepard?"
A/N: I think the idea of yanking the power cable on the AI has been done before but I think the idea of solving that particular problem by yanking the plug is pretty funny. Also, Aurion - new dawn or something, is also a model of car in Australia. I've driven it. I don't much like it. Too damn big and hard to park. That and it has the park brake mounted in the floor instead of between the front seats where most people would expect to find it.