Note: After one long pause we continue. I do not know the schedule in which this story will progress but I do know I enjoy writing it at the moment :) Let us hope I did not butcher the personalities of all around loved NPCs too much as they come in contact with my significantly 'not-all-there-in-the-head' Shepard.
Note #2: English is not my native language so mistakes will happen. Read, and in the case you enjoyed, review.
Segment II ~ Rough Seas
*ch8.
"Another one?"
Another one.
Shepard's expression of superficial puzzlement was replaced with easily accepted resignation. This had to be the third 'rescue-me' beacon in under two weeks. It inevitably reminded her of, oh so many times the old Normandy would cheerfully fly over a planet, unknown and distant and someone, usually a distressed human being, would signal her with a big, unneededly flashy 'save me' sign. It also usually involved a lot of murder and mayhem before reaching the goal.
"And thus I say goodbye to my and generally accepted and rational belief that, contrary to popular opinion, the universe does not fall into fragments with my absence. EDI." It was decided. Once her life was well and truly over (preferably to old age) the Council shall either need to re-discover Cerberus' Lazarus technology of resurrection or clone her, for who else would have the patience and generosity to solve galaxy's problems with such diligence?
"Yes, Shepard?" Blue sphere lit up next to the door.
"I shall require a shuttle," she ordered pulling herself from her comfortable and oh so rarely used chair – though, it would disturbing yet accurate, to say it was used by far more often than her bed. "I'll see what this signal may or may not be."
"Very well, Commander. Which of your team am I to notify for this mission?"
"Team?" Shepard paused in rummaging through her armory, utterly perplexed. "Dear me, EDI. It is a beacon and a wreck upon a dead planet. I believe I can handle this one on my own."
"I have detected movement on the surface of the planet, though it is not organic. I fully recommend that you take someone with you, Shepard," was a stern reprimand from EDI. Commander Shepard could accept rebukes from her subordinates – so long as they were not organic and did not snigger while doing so. EDI was very cordial with her rebukes.
"Oh, busy-bother!" Sofia threw her hands in the air with a huff, "If anyone is interested in enjoying some leisure time on the surface of a freezing, dust covered planet they are welcome to join me in the hangar." She paused in putting on her armor, she has already managed to snuggle on parts covering her hips, and looked up as if remembering something vital, "And in the meantime, do tell Joker to take over the mining operation. This way, he can fracture his thumb on something other than mute."
*/*/*/*/*
She went down to the armory to equip herself with a special brand of dangerous marbles, and with a joyfully good mood present in her step took an elevator down to hangar only to make an unplanned stop at crew's deck. She was just musing convoluted thoughts of many ways to both quicken and slow this mission down as to out-plan and out-maneuver the Collectors who seemed to keep themselves busy as she ran around doing things that could count for nothing but were still something – over her shotgun when the elevator door slid open. At first she didn't look up until slight shuffle reached her ears. Then she did, taking in the shadow before returning the attention back on her weaponry.
"Human teeth and jaw structure lack the necessary strength to bite through your plating, my esteemed colleague," she said evenly, with outmost disinterest. Before her the turian seemed to hesitate before stepping in, the door closing behind him. For a moment he looked uncomfortably… tense. She would have gone for the word 'fine' until suddenly and with a quick scuffle with elevator controls he stopped it between decks. Shepard looked around, lights were still on thankfully, and sighed most dramatically, "A most peculiar way for you to stop ignoring me. Just the two of us, and stuck between floors. Very twentieth century."
He shook his head as if tired of something. Quite possibly her, and the unspoken tension which had grown between them in the last few weeks of non-communication. "You never make things simple for those around you."
"I object! I've made them plenty simple. For me," she quipped all smiles. Could be real ones too. Could not be.
He looked at her, that mask she called face. He didn't know if what she did was common for other humans – he didn't know that many to judge. Oh, he had come to terms long ago with her quirks, or the fact that if he was to travel by her side, fight the enemies she challenged (sometimes for fun) he'd have to file it away somewhere in his brain that Shepard's way of 'molding' her crew was contradictory at best, and liable to drive them enraged at worst.
Shepard didn't help really, because Shepard didn't really care. She'd play and mix until she'd find the perfect combination for anyone in her vicinity. She didn't give people what they want, even if they begged for it – she'd give them what they need, especially when they cursed her for it. She seemed to relish in people's hatred towards her.
And oddly enough Garrus had come to accept it. How couldn't he? He would have to pack up and leave otherwise. That and he couldn't really deny the results she brought on the table.
"I never thanked you for your help with Sidonis, haven't I?" He started awkwardly (a fine way to break the ice) as if words had difficulty to pass formed from his head to his tongue, but Shepard for once was mercifully quiet. "It's just that… Back then, when we killed Dr. Saleon, you were the one who taught me that killing is best solution," he said pacing from one side of the elevator to the other. "And now you turn the whole thing around by throwing mercy into it."
"Untrue," she shook her head reattaching her shotgun back against the small of her back. "What I told you was to always keep your eyes, and thus your scope, on the target. Now, as to choosing your targets in a manner that would not cause more harm to your person than your regular slaying does, unless you're feeling particularly masochistic or are that far gone not to care – that is a great riddle you'll have to solve for yourself." She turned her lazy gaze, currently masquerading as indignation, towards him, "And just so we clear out our account books: I was the one to pull the trigger on kind, old Dr. Saleon."
"You, me…" he gestured at both of them, "He died then and there. We didn't bring him in. Law had nothing to do with it."
Sofia regarded him silently before shrugging the whole matter off, "Spectre." He snorted. It was her choice of answer when she didn't want to give one. She gravitated towards him, "I don't have an answer for you Garrus. Not any that would be to your liking, anyway. You will go through the same metamorphosis, and learn to pick and choose. The alternative of cutting yourself off from every fiber of your empathy is less pleasant." She paused, looked away eyes glazing in though, "Unless such cutting off had happened in early childhood, in which case none of it matters. I should really re-read those psychology tomes," she added under her breath a reminder to herself.
He shook his head paying less attention than usual to her go-around, "Is this how it's going to be from now on? All shades of gray?"
"Ah sadly, no. I know full well where I stand with the Reapers, for instance." And that was a dreadful tragedy right there. She usually loved compromises but those which held a stipulation for her to be dead, were simply not functional as far as she was concerned.
Something akin to stifled laughter escaped his lips, "So I've been an ass lately for nothing."
"Never for nothing. Though I suppose that as your superior commander, it would be my duty to make feel just a bit better after days of feeling worthless and conflicted. Therefore, I advise you to join me on a shooting outlet."
"You've pissed off someone else already?" He asked causally. Shepard's steely gaze recommended caution.
"Garrus, my trusted friend," his mind immediately raced back to the Citadel and threats involving pain and agony and unshared coffee, "by now you should have learned that I do not need to 'piss people off' in order to shoot them." Too true. "Regarding today," her tone once more turned lighthearted, "EDI believes I am to go in a territory fraught with perils untold. At best, there will be an adrenaline rush. At worst, it will be a casual stroll, no more. It does not promise excitement but you are welcome to tag along," she put on her helmet, narrow red visor obscuring her face.
"Sure. Better than spending all my time thinking myself in a loop." There was a snort, or a giggle, or a cough even from the corner of the elevator where Shepard stood. The helmet revealed nothing. Free from the breaks the elevator door slid open once more on crew's deck, they hadn't moved up or down that much to begin with, and Garrus stepped out. "I'll go and get my weapons."
Shepard waved goodbye at him and as he stepped away she spotted Thane making his way to the mess hall. Ah-ha! He had taken her advice and was finally leaving his self-imposed isolation. That made her very pleased indeed. Noticing her in the elevator he gave her a small, curt nod of acknowledgement. In return Shepard bowed with a flamboyant flourish before the door closed and grinned under her helmet.
A true gentlemen. As it turned out, they were not a mythological supposition. On a verge of extinction perhaps, but not the beings of legends just yet. That thought made her pause in horror, for the first time in a while. Had she taken along the last known specimen with her on what could very well be a suicide run? Shortening his accessibility by a year?
Oh, the females of any species in need of cordial treatment will never forgive her! Death in a most gruesome way possible awaited her first!
Funnily enough, that thought caused her more worry than a fleet of Reapers ever could.
*/*/*/*/*
Further down, in the hangar it was quite a surprise for her to see Jack, of all possible members of her squad – and the only member of her squad who made no pretense of how much she wanted to paint the inside of Normandy with Sofia's bowels, and it had nothing to do with Cerberus, mind you – stepping out of the shuttle with a gun in her hand, she always had that thing with her, and as comfortably dressed in her tattoos only as ever. Shepard actually felt a small shiver at the prospect of going out like that. Style just wasn't worth freezing her womanly parts off.
But back to Jack – a bit extreme description of their relations but the 'killing' part was essentially the same.
"My, my. What could have possibly EDI bribed you with for you to join me on this dull excursion on this day?"
Jack shrugged unimpressed, "Wasn't planning to go down. Just wanted to talk."
Shepard paused in her steps before approaching the shuttle. Jack looked calm and thus this conversation had a potential to go way up or end up in depths of hell depending on who pulled out the big guns first. "To inform you, I do have a secretary. Two in fact. And an onboard AI with a lovely personality who would have gladly pointed me in your direction should you only dare to ask."
The expression Jack treated her with could only be described as the look of someone who didn't buy a single word that came out of her mouth, not even for 0.99 credits. "You took classes for talking shit like that?"
"You know they were the best kind, Jack," Shepard chuckled alluding to something only the two of them could understand. In retrospect, it was not the smartest thing to say as reacting volatilely and in blue light of biotics Jack slammed the Commander back against the shuttle though Shepard didn't resist, beyond losing some of her breath, and just stared back at the fury in biotic's dark eyes. Sad eyes too but that was to be kept under wraps. Sofia might've even been grinning under her helmet. Most likely considering that on the best of days she didn't have to say a word to piss Jack off, and she liked to talk before people decided that going for her jugular was in order.
"You don't know what it was like!" Jack bit out. "Living on the streets is nothing compared to what Cerberus did to me Shepard."
"Oh, it's bad Jack. A different type of bad but, depending of the street, it can as certifiably screw you up as much as any scientist with plethora of medical equipment." This candid comparison, whether it was true or false, only seemed to rile the biotic up more and Shepard took hold of fist firmly planted against her heck. There was a gun somewhere in there too, planted against Jack's skin and ready to do what it was designed for at close range. Jack was a biotic marvel and Shepard was in no mood to burn down the house today by the virtue of testing who'd draw the first blood.
"But what I was is not an open topic today. And were I to mean to rub it in your face you'd be the first to notice the change in demeanor, believe me," Sofia said and her tone did not soften the way it would were she speaking with someone else – it was harsh – and waited until something lit up behind her eyes and Jack reined in her anger enough to let go with a frustrated growl. She didn't want to kill her. Maybe tomorrow but not today.
"Now, what was it that you wanted to share with me?" Shepard asked dusting the non-existing specks of dust and filing away her pistol.
Grim expression settled across her features and Jack waved the whole conversation away. "Nothing. Forget it," and with that the tattooed woman climbed into the shuttle. Sheppard watch her go blinking.
"Oh? And here I thought you have decided, quite firmly, that you weren't coming along."
"I am now."
"Are you sure you wish to stretch your legs on the surface of the planet whose average and most reasonable offer of temperature for walkabout is minus twenty-five degree Celsius?" Sofia insisted.
"Will you fucking shut up! Jesus…" came from the inside of the shuttle.
"Not in the last lifetime and not in this, Suze," Shepard muttered having an itch to rub her tearing eyes but the presence of helmet interfered. She should delegate these tearful moments full of emotion better – two today and the day has only begun.
Just then Garrus chose to walk in, causing her to look up, while setting his sniper against his back. He caught maybe a fraction of tense atmosphere. He looked ship's commander and then up at shuttle where the melting pot of crazy was stewing.
"Did something happen?" He asked somewhat cautiously.
"An unrequited need for romantic relationship cleverly disguised as sexual tension. True love, I tell you," Shepard gently explained. It was accompanied by a vicious, almost animal like snarl coming from the inside of the vessel.
"Right," was a dry remark of acknowledging that he had no idea want was going on. He rubbed his head. "Why do I even ask?"
"Because you're helplessly curious," Sofia exclaimed starting forward, than changed her mind, turned back and stopped very close to him and whispered in a conspiratorially low voice, "You're sitting next to her."
Garrus' mouth snapped shut.
He should have seen that one coming.
*/*/*/*/*