Disclaimer: Don't own anything but the slightly off personality of my Shepard.
Note: Very minor game dialogue usage.
Note#2:English is not my mother language so I shall immediately apologize for any grammatical and/or spelling mistakes made. Mind you some of it is quite deliberate.
*ch7.
Back and forth; back and forth she rocked the chair.
Sitting in front of Bailey's desk there was little else for her to do but fool around to ease her unusually accumulated impatience. Time seemed to trickle away exceedingly slow, even by 'patient shepherd's' standards. Bailey, for whom this kind of waiting was probably part of job description, continued to type away at his holo-keyboard as if Mardi Gras paraded on his screen. After awhile he raised his keen, suspiciously narrowed eyes to look at excessively bored Spectre sitting before him.
"You know, Joram still hadn't surfaced to make headline news out of this incident."
"Oh, I'm fairly certain he'll surface. Eventually," Shepard replied thoughtfully still rocking the chair. And she'd prefer if that happened later rather than sooner. "Politicians being what they are, he is most likely just residing temporarily in the underbelly of the Citadel. Hiding and such."
She met captain's eyes. The expression he wore on his face told her quite clearly and with no misunderstanding involved, 'I am not an idiot, don't treat me as one.' She looked away feeling just a tad miffed. Ah well, she wasn't trying that hard to hide it to begin with.
"I don't think I'll ever figure out why Spectre operate the way you do." The man pulled back. Spectre and C-Sec never got along; their methods would clash like two enraged krogans on the opposite sides of the battlefield. For an ordinary cop anywhere agents with top clearance were known to be a pain in the ass; and Spectre didn't pause to speak pleasantries before butting in to take over operations. Shepard certainly wasn't going to give him clear how, where or why Joram disappeared, though he had more than one idea. "I don't even know why I bother."
"If it is of any consolation, all we do is in an effort to fight off evil invading aliens from beyond the reaches of the known space who wish to consume our bodily liquids for some nefarious design of their own," Shepard recited in what should pass as apologetic tone.
Eyebrow raised, cresses of his forehead twisted, "Right."
"And, we are well paid to do it."
"Clearly, I'm in the wrong profession."
Grinning Shepard leaned back and with a light sigh turned to look at that still closed door of cell block. "They've been in there awhile."
He followed her eyes and shifted in his chair, "Ehh, kid's been through a lot." His fingers continued working on the keyboard, pulling out files on the screen. "I've ran some searches in the C-Sec archive. About ten years back a bunch of real bad people were killed. Like someone was cleaning house. The prime suspect was a drell. We never caught him."
Rocking of the chair slowed and stopped. Her feet came in contact with the floor with a 'thud'. "That is a long time to keep a case open, captain. Have you considered the one responsible probably not existing anymore?"
At least by this point they understood each other – spoke the same language, one would say. So Bailey dropped the matter, sealing the files of unresolved and cold murder cases. "Yeah, I guess you're right about that."
Hissing of the door in the background alerted both of them as one drell stepped out, standing tall and straight, yet with an air around him familiar to her. Shepard cocked her head at his approach, eyes downcast at Bailey's half-transparent holo-screens.
"Will everything be in order?" She asked not looking up.
"Our problems are… they aren't something I can fix with a few words. We'll keep talking. See what happens." Shepard leaned a bit listening to his voice – a titter of hope, a bit of desperation, caught between the two.
"Your boy shot some people," Bailey started, cutting in on matters yet to be resolved. "No one I feel sympathy for, but there it is."
Sofia let out a bark of quick laugh, "They were as criminal as most of your esteemed visitors, if not more so."
"But he can't just get away with it."
"Then allow him to acquaint himself with the real world. Some community service will do him good."
The Captain let out a disbelieving snort, "Community service for attempted murder? What jury would agree to that?"
"And there is a need to involve one? The boy didn't actually commit any murder, now did he? And about the only thing that krogan had bruised – because wounding would be giving Kolyat too much credit – was his pride." Eyes closed her head inclined to the side slightly, "I am truly and sincerely sorry to say this Thane, but your son does not posses a hand calm enough to handle a gun."
"A flaw I would not rush to correct," he replied with relief almost. One of few instances where the father was overjoyed to have his son not inherits certain gifts and skills.
Bailey looked between the two. Subtly said, there wasn't much he could do when a marauding Spectre and Hero come back from the grave ask him to turn a blind eye at the events transpired. Furthermore, and more important, he cared very little about regulations by the end of the day. "Interesting. I'll think about it." Bailey stood up and shook hands with Thane.
"Thank you captain."
A fine example of two men who had a capacity to care but ultimately failed in parenting, Shepard mused. One of life's ironies, if she had to guess.
The small shuttle was there waiting to take them back to the docking bay, and as Shepard nestled herself in the driver's seat she let out a little hum. "And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, little boy blue and a man on the moon," eyes focused on the traffic she recited with a light tune following her words.
"Shepard?" He questioned but she shook her head.
"An old Earth song. It has striking similarities with you. But all in all, nothing too important."
But she did not look at him after that. It could have been the gradual development of familiarity around captain or just his training kicking in, but he noticed that her eyes remained focused ahead of her, even sliding past him as they've entered the ship. After that, he had not seen her for the next two days.
*/*/*/*/*
Shepard rubbed her forehead.
They were in FTL for fifteen – fifteen – minutes only when duty, like a whore in heat, snuck up at her from behind the corner. Granted, it had been one day, seventeen hours and fifteen minutes but such insignificant details were easy to slip by when one's head was submerged deep into the crevices of mining nuisances.
Especially when the tragedy of cold coffee struck along with it. The day cannot begin, go and end well if she is so preoccupied that even her favorite beverage has to take second chair when compared to threat that Collectors presented. In her mind something clicked together violently. Ancient Protheans of misfortunate fate or not, those creatures were a menace and a plague upon her daily schedule and would simply have to go.
And she would make sure there would be no trace of them to be found right after she regained her freedom from Doctor Chakwas' evil instruments of torture. A very cliché and biased outlook which had nothing to do with doctor's mountain-size expertise but was solely based on her all encompassing need to complete her rounds around the ship – ergo, provide moral support for the crew and make sure Miss Chambers realize she will be feeding the fuzzy little creature, extreme compulsion to gag or no.
"Well, you have managed to return from the Citadel in one piece. I'm impressed."
Sofia let out a wheeze when Chakwas inspected closed bullet hole on her shoulder. It stopped hurting a while now but it was still relatively fresh in her mind. It didn't happen that often that a team member was a reason for her to visit the infirmary.
"An astute observation," Shepard said pulling away from scanning equipment. For highly futuristic instruments intended to heal, they were unpleasantly cold as hell. A bit more comfort where their patients are concerned should have come as forethought. "But it was only possibly for Udina dared not to try attempt on my life. Dearly as he wished it…"
"That man only ever cared about himself," ship's doctor spoke in terse tone before suddenly grabbing hold of her patient's shoulder and yanking Shepard to face her. "Your implants are starting to show." Chakwas said after a moment of scrutinizing her commander's face.
"They do not!" Shepard exclaimed in a mortified voice, hand flying to her cheek.
"Have you looked yourself in the mirror at all lately?"
Ah, the stern voice of a chief doctor. Chakwas was in mood to scold. Wonderful.
"I had a delightful shower, and have generally abused the bathroom all morning by acting like a female for once – so yes, I did happen to have a very good view of the mirror at the time." A truthful but not an entirely correct answer. She certainly had noticed the slight shift and change. With certain amount of resignation Sofia brushed away hair falling over her face, "'Tis my eyes only doctor. It is not as if my skin has started to crack." The look on good doctor's face didn't inspire confidence in bright, blemish-free future. "Yet. And going from violet to red, now at least they would mach my hair better, don't you think?"
Doctor Chakwas did not look amused, "You are working under too much stress. You personally may thrive on mayhem and chaos but those things inside you are not designed to withstand that." Shepard paused in her thought. Chakwas showed good amount of knowledge regarding 'things inside of her'. It was not all that unreasonable to think that Miranda might have delivered some general information about her implants to ship's doctor. After all, it was not only the health of the crew she had to monitor but of the unpredictable Commander as well – and with enough metal under her skin to make a small tennis ball Shepard needed watching over.
"I know," Shepard replied surprisingly plainly while pulling white shirt over her head. "I've already asked Mordin earlier if he could spare an hour or two to check the schematics and structure of the implants. To see if something can be done to improve and make them keep up with my overly active and adventurous life."
"Did he agree?"
"Did I allow him to say no?"
The older woman sighed sounding tired, "This kind of behavior is precisely the only reason I could think off to make you a single person in the galaxy that is able to burn through implants designed to bring dead to life."
"I completely agree. I am special like that."
"Modest too."
"Only when it is absolute truth." Her self-satisfied smile was cut short when she heard a near silent beep and her onmi-tool sprung to life. Her smile faltered. Ah, the report she had inquired for earlier has finally come through. For two reasons exactly she had hoped it would not. Reason number one she would like to keep for herself; and as for the other, it was no fun being right all the time. At least it would get her out of the infirmary. Once more she plastered a smile on her face.
Chakwas shook her but smiled good-naturedly, "Well, your results are fine, for now, so I guess you can go on about your business of harassing everyone on board."
"Much obliged, doctor," Shepard chuckled climbing to her feet and pulling her black uniform back on.
"And get some rest," Chakwas called after retiring Commander with little hope that while heard there was little hope to be obeyed.
*/*/*/*/*
Sofia had considered pausing in before the door, and then remembered how unprofessional that would be – especially for someone of her reputation. Not to mention, she had already jammed the elevator between decks for extended periods of time to think things through with as clear head as possible. Some of the crew members gave her one and then both eyebrows raised seeing how she was the only visible passenger. The collective collection of dirty minds on this ship was staggering.
So she did what she did best – she marched in, all 'captain-of-the-ship' like, slowing down and stopped as she approached where the assassin sat, back to her. A screen, bright in color floated before him. Words and letters unfamiliar to her crisscrossed it but she lacked the necessary knowledge to decipher them. And even if she had, it was switched off before she would be able to glean any meaning from it.
"Am I interrupting?" She asked with unusually sedate tone.
He twisted in his seat slightly, observing her approach. "No, no. I have been recording a message for Kolyat."
"Things are going well, I hope?" She inquired taking a seat in front of him and crossing her fingers on the table, right across the datapad she had brought with her.
"It is difficult. All things worth keeping are," he clasped his hands noticing that something was slightly off.
She would have something to say to that. It was very much in her nature to throw remarks left and right like spare coin. Sometimes she would even throw in a pearl among them. But with only a nod there were no coins and no pearls today. In fact, without her grin, taunting words and spark of genuine mischief, the commander looked smaller, ordinary and in retreat almost. There was a frown, eyes hard and firmly focused before her, yet not on him. It was nothing he could tie to her usual behavior. Briefly he wondered if something had occurred onboard Citadel, something which escaped his notice.
Her fingers drummed along the smooth surface of the datapad. He saw her place it facedown on the table when she first came in. Like a card. In his life he had witnessed humans play earth originated card game exactly twenty-three times. He could easily imagine someone like Shepard play cards. Bet, bluff, cheat. Read her opponent.
"You mentioned earlier you were interested in learning the identities of those who set him up," her voice returned him from a short burst of memory of his younger days traveling off world, and he looked up at her with open curiosity. "Is that still the case?"
His eyes went back to the pad before him.
Facedown. A joker. And it had nothing to do with the pilot.
She pushed it towards him
Now here was a question with no easy answer. Did he want to know who had set up his child on this dangerous path, nearly ruining him? Did it matter at all now? It was not as if he would have time to hunt them down, learn why they did what they did. Not in his condition, and certainly not with Shepard's suicidal goal loaming ahead.
There was another matter to consider. An important one. In the final count, the informant had spoken of nothing but truth. Truth he had kept hidden from Kolyat for so long. Had he been more open, and not neglected his existence… There were far too many 'maybe-s' and 'what if-s' in his tale.
So who was to blame?
He placed his hand on the datapad, still facedown, and pushed it back. Her joker.
"There is no need for it Shepard. Not anymore." He folded his hands together, calm. Shepard would even say calmer than she had seen him before.
She returned his look for a brief moment before she picked the pad herself, eyes focused and narrowed on the content. "This option," she paused taping her knuckle against the surface storing information, "will not be available again."
He understood. What she offered here today was a one time deal. Strangely enough, it didn't bother him as much as it perhaps should have.
"I am certain," resonating calm in his voice confirmed what his words told her. Pressing a button or two she placed it back on the table, face up this time. It was blank, content deleted, but his eyes remained focused on her rather than gadget.
Shepard pushed away in her chair and stood up. "Mr. Krios," she replied as farewell before leaving life support.
She had left the empty datapad behind.
One time deal.
*/*/*/*/*
What occupied this man's thoughts was probably self-explanatory. It also fell under scope so big, common people dared not to even consider as a possibility. Most notably his mind pivoted around the latest, largest and most expensive of his investments yet. He could say many things about this investment – most notably that she made, broke and taped back together rules under which she worked. It was predictable enough pattern to follow.
And also had scheduled a meeting with him on her own volition.
She was also late.
As of siphoning into his thoughts the hologram linking Normandy to Illusive Man's secretive office flared up. Empty at first, causing a passable case of mild surprise, until a chair being dragged in the center materialized followed by Shepard, who promptly settled herself in it with a light huff. His eyebrow arched and smoke curled from his cigar waiting, but she didn't speak, just tapped a few buttons on her omni-tool. Blazing orange holographic screen popped up next to man's chair and he glanced, almost with disinterest at it.
"Thirty thousand credits? I have to say I did find myself somewhat stumped, if only for a moment, after noticing that drastic incline in my 'personal' account." Her cybernetic eyes settled on his as she leaned back. "One might almost come to conclusion that you have hired me to outright remove Talid from political stage."
"Don't flatter yourself, Shepard. You already have a target to deal with," he gestured at her and then paused, inhaling thick smoke. "When Talid had grown to become a problem he would have been dealt with accordingly."
"But now, he won't ever grow to become a problem and therefore you will not be having minor distractions in the future where your attention will be fully occupied by Reapers. A most propitious course of events for you that he had to cross my path," she paused and grinning stretched her legs in front of her. "But you knew that already, being involved in the plot as it were." He was silent and thoughtful, and didn't deny it. And there was no need for him to say anything. "I'd love to call you a manipulative scumbag for testing my crew like that," Shepard chuckled finally with mirth leaning forward slightly, "but I am actually somewhat fond of your style."
"We had spent years studying your behavioral patterns Shepard. The choice of individuals for your team has been made on more than just their abilities. Certain compatibility with your way of thinking was also required."
"You profiled me all too well," she answered with a smile instead. Sofia hated when people profiled her. It destroyed any chance of taking them by surprise. "Although, the curiosity is eating me up and I find myself having to ask; how many more of surprises am I to expect form you?"
The cigar was methodically quenched in the black ashtray, electric blue eyes gleaming from shadow. On screens behind him her quick eyes caught the sight of files listing one behind the other. "As many as are necessary to defeat the Collectors."
She couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing.
There were too many similarities between them for Shepard to feel at ease around him. This lack of comfort she covered well – for one, a man like the Illusive Man would seek to exploit any weakness she might present like a hungry shark; and for another, to work with a warped male version of herself was just too much fun.
Clearly, she was masochistic.
As her laughter subsided she wiped tears from the corner of her eyes, "I hope you have reasonable schedule for all of those because where servicing more than five people at the same time is concerned, I do have to say I'm a bit rusty."
"Considering your management up until this point, I have full confidence in your ability to organize."
"All is well then," Sofia said leaning back in her chair, shoulders relaxing. "Solving puzzles without reference has always been a fascination of mine."
Use and be used. That was how it was. That was how it would be. Cerberus used Shepard. Shepard used her crew. The crew used Shepard. A closed circle that never failed her before.
Sofia let out a low, constant chuckle and threw her head back and sighed.
Life had become so good to her.
*/*/*/*/*
Segment I ~ End
Another Note: Here I will say 'thank you' for all those who reviewed and favored the story, and even greater gratitude for the ridiculous (in a good way) number of people who had put it on story alert.
I also have to send big hugs, 'thank you-s' & cyber-cookies to Vickie1 for her support and help. Go read her story, it's definitely better themed and better structured than mine.
Next, the story is on hiatus until Segment II is all planned out. Or even if it gets planned out.